Young age

Younger age can sometimes only be consoled by two things:

The knowledge that we will see the future.

And the knowledge that older counterparts are gonna die first.

Amelie

I should have watched this much earlier. I don't know why it took me so long before I'd come around and see this movie. You know, it's that procrastination thing. Everyone says you need to see it, you know it's going to be good, but that's where the problem lies. Oh, you'll say, I can watch it whenever I want. It's even on my mp3 player.


Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amelie Poulain could be my favorite movie ever. It's one of those movies that sort of shove a cute sense of happiness down your throat, and then make you chew. It's a little painful, a little cloying at first, but then you understand. You realize that oh, that's the way it should have been. Oh, so the cloying sweetness works. Oh, so that's why Audrey Tautou's the lead role.

Amelie, the character is just great, really. The first few minutes in, you automatically attach yourself to her persona. You'd want to meet her, even be the butt end of her ridiculous yet amusing schemes. Amelie understands our little insanities and appreciates us for them.

Speaking of which, Audrey Tautou has also probably become one of my favorite actresses, if not my favorite. Nelly was right, it should have happened earlier but the only movies I had seen with her were frankly, disappointing. (The Da Vinci Code, A Very Long Engagement.)

Amelie

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I just ruined the movie for you. :-)

So yeah, you could say I've had a good night. I'm dead tired from our jam today. It's been a while since we've had something that productive and that energy-draining. Tomorrow you can catch me before 11AM or after 4PM. I'm selling fruit at ACS and then going to the allergist again. :-(

Love,
- Mirko

French exchange?

This morning, I recieved a couple emails from various French exchange groups regarding language-intensive summer programs. I'm pretty interested by the whole idea, but I had sort of already made a previous commitment to the closer (and substantially cheaper) summer music program at Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs.

It brought up an interesting dilemma for me, namely, what was more important for me? Of course, music trumped most things on my list, and French...well, not really. But just being abroad and learning French in France might be a totally different experience. Besides, I can stand 3 hours a day in Therese's class, two and a half hours a day shouldn't be that hard.

In any case, I'm going to France in May with the French trip. And don't get me wrong, I love the French language. I just don't like my French teacher.

___________

Never give an iguana Viagra

Thu Jan 25, 2007 12:04pm ET

ANTWERP, Belgium (Reuters) - Mozart, an iguana with an erection that has lasted for over a week, will have his penis amputated in the next couple of days.

Veterinarians at Antwerp's Aquatopia had sought to treat the animal's problem, but decided removal was the only solution because of the risk of infection. The good news for Mozart and his mates is that male iguanas have two penises.

Mozart, sitting on the shoulders of his keeper as camera crews focused on his red, swollen erection, seemed unperturbed by the news.

"It doesn't bother him. He doesn't know what amputation means," said vet Luc Lambrecht, adding that Mozart's sexual activity should be undimmed by the operation.

© Reuters 2007. All Rights Reserved.

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In case the header didn't strike you, don't give an iguana Viagra. They like having two penises. Just a little warning for you, in case you guys were thinking about it.

A little funny, when you think about the magnitude of fetish porn on the internet. I can only imagine the amount pertaining to anthropomorphic iguanas non-consensually giving it to hapless young blonde women who just happen to have 34DD breasts and a big tattoo across their spine and just above their ass.

Porn is such cheap shit.

Curse of the Golden Flower/The pPhone

Wanna see a weird movie that makes you really want to be a flying ninja?

Okay, so the ending's a little disappointing, and the plot's just absurd, but I find it typical of Chinese movies. The difference here, is that the fighting scenes are far more natural than other mainstream Asian films, and the cinematography is really a brilliant use of CGI.

That's where the film's high points really are: imagery and symbolism. The golden flower, the chrysanthemum, plays a thousand different roles in the film as the symbol for rebellion, particularly the final showdown scenes where the golden army's blood is spilled over a fresh bed of the flowers.

Go watch it. Next movie on my list is The Last King of Scotland.

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You know, speaking of form over function, Lukas, here's a little gadget that'll make you drool. Okay, so it's actually just a rebranded, souped up LG, but it's got the same features as Apple's new communication toy, it looks sexier than my bike, and it matches my favorite pants with the PRADA sign emblazoned underneath the camera.

And the beauty of it? It's less expensive than the nice pair of PRADA jeans and tight sweater I've been eyeing but will probably never attain. Form shouldn't exactly trump function, but never let school get in the way of your education.

Yeah, so um....fuck the iPhone?

_____________

I cannot stress the beauty of French electronica that's not in French. Though French electronica that's in French is just as good.

Gotan Project - Santa Maria (rUmPeLsTiLtSkIn)

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Lunatico

http://www.sophiakokosalaki.com/ - Sophia Kokosalaki, an emerging New York designer with inspiration from ancient Greek fashion sense. With the draping jackets, oversized jackets, and flamboyant colors, it's more pretty than hot, more cute than sleek, more coquette than sophisticated, but it's still fashion and it's still worth a look.

I realized that I've never taken enough time to thank my friends for providing over half the music in my music library, all of which I listen to. I don't know what I'd do without you guys; I'd probably still be listening to Matthew Shipp and William Parker over and over again.

Thanks to Kai for sharing the Gotan Project with me. This is quite honestly the third sexiest music I know, coming in just after Haddaway and Bjork. I'm joking of course. It actually pulls in at number one sexiest music, and Bjork comes in fourth.

This bears continuity to everything I was saying about French electronica...even though the lyrics in the majority of the songs are in Spanish. (The video below takes place in Buenos Aires.) There's still that little extra that the French do to their music that makes it so much better than say, Italian, Egyptian, or even British electronica.

As for Haddaway, um, don't ask...



Gotan Project - Diferente (Promo Video)

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____________

I'm a little intrigued by WordPress over Blogger. Blogspot could learn a thing or two from WordPress's design schemes and options. Moving over there could be an improvement, then again, it could also be a little messy given the integration my computer has with Google software.

I'm also a little intrigued by this whole concept of multiple authors on one blog. Within that scenario, posting would all show up on one page, but that would also eliminate the need for multiple users. But at the same time, it's nice retaining a little individuality, until I learn how to trick out Blogger to look like something I made.

A fleeting dash of ego

"Donc, mot...?"

Good evening, everyone.

Homework assigned to us for French V on Tuesday was a French analysis of Guilliame Apollinaire's Le Pont Mirabeau, a simply yet aesthetically beautiful poem about...well, that's up to interpretation. Doing poems is enjoyable, because not only do I love poems, but sometimes, it's a poem I know by heart, like this time. Thus, the work was relatively easy for me.

Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine
Et nos amours
Faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne
La joie venait toujours après la peine

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

Les mains dans les mains restons face à face
Tandis que sous
Le pont de nos bras passe
Des éternels regards l'onde si lasse

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

L'amour s'en va comme cette eau courante
L'amour s'en va
Comme la vie est lente
Et comme l'Espérance est violente

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

Passent les jours et passent les semaines
Ni temps passait
Ni les amours reviennent
Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

"Le Pont Mirabeau"
Apollinaire, Alcools (1912)

French poetry's not everyone's taste. It tries a little too hard to be profound sometimes, but I find that Apollinaire does a good job making sure that the interpretation works literally as well as symbolically.

For an English translation, see Sasha's page. I do believe, however, that poetry was not meant to be altered, changed, or translated in any shape or form. You want to read Mongolian poetry? Learn Mongolian. The concept of poetry was created not for just the meaning (which can also be undesirably altered during translation) but also the aesthetics of the words and phrases themselves.

If you want to hear the song, the one that's NOT by the Pogues, check out Sophie Auster. It's quirky, but it's definitely pretty.

_____________

"If my penis were as big as my ego, I'd be King Kong."

- Dylan JJ

Thanks for the insight, Dylan.

So the uh, Physics midterm started today. First problem and I already skipped over it. Over at Sasha's house I began to calculate my grade if I say...uh, well forgot about the rest of the problems. When you start counting your score before you even finish the test, you know you're going to fail. Fail hard, too.

It seems like such a simple algebra problem, too, that I'm actually beginning to doubt myself. I used to have a pretty big ego when it came to being logical, but I figured that I'm not all that. Besides, that ego was all formulated. It wasn't ever really there; it started to fool the teachers into thinking that I was actually working, but I guess I let the little lie grow a little uhm, big. I'm not actually a member of the smart people crew. Haha. Member. Get it? MEMBER. Tee hee.

Whatever. My ego could use a beating.

____________

It's always fun getting into philosophical debates over trivial matters. That's how I spent my afternoon though, debating over cappuccino and 5-layer chocolate things and sporadic internet at Juna's. Nothing too hardcore today, though, just the usual relative good and bad that makes our world worth living in, and that perhaps human intelligence will outlive its usefulness one day, where one day civilization will stagnate because we have nowhere to turn.

Sasha and I pretty much rock.

Untitled

I thought she was one of my best friends. I thought we knew each other.

But when she asked me, "How are you?" I began to question myself.

I thought for a moment, how was I? She asked me a second time and when I was ready to respond, I was scared. Not because of what she said, but because of what I said.

"I'm fine."

__________

Unappreciated art has the same effect on the artist as unrequited love on the lover. It eat, it destroys, and when there's nothing left to destroy, it moves on to the next victim like a parasite. You want to keep good art alive? Then don't make the distinction between good and bad.

Format/WII

One thing that irritates me more than people who format funny and PEOPLE WHO TYPE IN ALL CAPS because they think it's cool, is pplz typng reel badly bcuz tey r 2 skild.

__________

January 15, 2007 - Woman Killed In Wii-Related Competition

A twenty-eight year old Sacramento mother of three has died of water intoxication after taking part in a local radio competition to win a Wii console.

Jennifer Strange was found dead on Friday at her home after taking part in a contest named “Hold your wee for a Wii” at the studios of radio station KDND 107.9. The competition involved drinking large quantities of water, with the last person to go to the toilet winning a Wii console – currently out of stock in most of North America.

An Associated Press interview with another contestant, named James Ybarra, claimed that contestants were initially given eight ounce bottles of water to drink every fifteen minutes, with larger bottles being used once contestants began to drop out. According to Ybarra, “They told us if you don't feel like you can do this, don't put your health at risk." He described the victim as “a nice lady” and that “she was telling me about her family and her three kids and how she was doing it for her kids."

Water intoxication (also known as hyperhydration or water poisoning) is a potentially fatal disturbance in brain function that results when the normal balance of electrolytes in the body is upset by a rapid intake of water. It is unclear how serious a danger to the contestant’s health KDND knew the competition to be at the time.

John Geary, vice president and marketing manager for Entercom Sacramento, the station's owner, claimed that station personnel were “stunned” when they heard of Strange's death. "We are awaiting information that will help explain how this tragic event occurred," he said. The incident has already been widely reported by mass media outlets around the world.

POSTED: 03.33AM PST, 01/15/07 - David Jenkins - LINK

__________

The thing that went through my mind by the last sentence was that America ought to be embarrassed about themselves, embarrassed that this sort of thing happens at all, and for its own sake. That's right.

In Sudan we have people dying in the name of ethnic cleansing, in Somalia we've got people dying in the name of power, in Palestine we've got people dying in the name of God, and in Malawi we've got people dying in the name of survival. But eh. What do people in America die for?

That's right.

What makes it worse: this tragedy could have been averted if she had an extra 250$ to go out and buy it herself.

Calorie counting

[23:18] inqualcanto: people who ACTUALLY count their calories.
[23:18] inqualcanto: annoy me.
[23:18] yuvali611acs: I CANT EAT THAT
[23:18] yuvali611acs: yea
[23:18] yuvali611acs: i look
[23:18] yuvali611acs: and then im like
[23:18] yuvali611acs: i shouldnt eat that
[23:19] yuvali611acs: and then i do
[23:19] inqualcanto: i wanna just go like "yeah bitch you are fat." and make them cry.
[23:19] inqualcanto: but that'd be a horrible thing to do.

Went and saw Stomp the Yard, and I can offer you a few words of advice: DON'T see it. Spend your ten bucks on something more enjoyable, like oxycontin or ritalin. Or Robitussin shots. SOMETHING. Okay, it had its cool dance moves which sort of made me want to take Capoiera. But the actors were dancers, not actors. And the girl wasn't that gorgeous.

Odd thing happened today. Yuval and I got to the theatre at 7:05, thinking the movie started at 7:15. (Dyslexia? Joking.) Apparently it started at 7:50. A shame, though, since for half an hour, we thought we had the theatre to ourselves; that would have been a first. It would have been pretty awesome, but we learned later when Ryan walked in and was like, "wow guys, how long have you been here?"

Birthday

I cried for a while today. About what, I'll never know. It's becoming almost comical for me to cry, because it's such a basic instinct that I have to treat it like breathing.

_________

I shall wake up tomorrow morning being 15 years and one day old.

Mhm. Today was my birthday, though I largely forgot about it and tried to ignore it. For me, I'm still trying to understand the human desire to ark the passage of time, when in reality we like things the way they are. Perhaps it's just a human predisposition we've had since the beginning of time.

What's more, I languish when I hear the word time. It's just so irritating to listen to. Time-capsules, time-trials, time-zones, time-travelers, time-pieces. My guess is part of it is that time is also a man-made concept, just like racial differences, or morality. Humans thought up time because they needed a way to mark events in their lives. The "beginning of time" is really when Caveman A woke up and said to Caveman B, "Hey...it's not yesterday!"

Which brings me to the point of birthdays, which really make no sense to me. Scratching the surface, why are we celebrating the date of our birth and not the date of our conception...the real beginning of our existence? Second of all, why celebrate it? It's a date. On the Gregorian Calender.

But presents are always nice.

___________

Welcome to the blog-o-sphere, Lukas. Fuck Myspace.

Tuesday

Granted, it's not Tuesday, but I thought I'd write about what happened at lunch.

It's funny how I find so much to write about so little. So at lunch the French exchange group had a lunch meeting about personal accounting vs. group accounting. (Capitalism versus communism, basically.) And capitalism won by a landslide in just ten minutes after Sasha's concerns got widely ignored.

Then for the next forty minutes, Therese insisted on us continuing to argue the topic. So then a couple people (I won't name names, since arguing when there's nothing to argue about is a common symptom of pigheadedness) decided that we should continue to reiterate the same point (group accounts keep work from being fair!) a couple dozen times. Then someone would interject about a new idea, and Therese would immediately dismiss it on the grounds of "it's been decided!"

So what were we arguing? Someone please tell me.

Things got better around 3:00 when I went down and ran into Lukas and Maddy at Juna's. I couldn't stick around since I was meeting Simon for a snack. I allocated a vast majority of my day's money on Sammy's cheese pizzas and went home a couple pounds heavier.

Oh and other all that shit outside of school, my day was pretty much a wreck for reasons unknown. It still bothers me that I don't know what's bothering me so much. Hmm. If that sentence is any indication of what's wrong, then I don't know how I'm gonna get myself out of this self-perpetuating loophole of um, being bothered.

Um. Yeah.

And yes, I'm in the mood for something sunny.

Telepopmusik? Electronica's not the first thing you think of when you hear the word "sun," but it'll do.

Telepopmusik - Breathe

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Roman 300?

Ridiculously tiring day.

It's disheartening. Oh well. That's the way life works. And that's why I'm downtown trying to gulp down a 16 oz. Sumatra coffee as fast as possible.

Hey look, a half-finished crossword puzzle. I wonder why they stopped. Oh. What the fuck is a "Roman 300?"

Don't you hate it when the title of the post is half the length of the entire blog? Yeah, me too....

Perfume

Best movie I've seen in a long time. Why?

Because it's so new, so original, that I don't even care that it was a book long before it was a movie. I don't care that the portrayal of 18th century Paris is so grim and bitter, that the images were often too graphic for American media, and that Dustin Hoffman was a poor choice for an Italian master perfumer living in Paris. The idea is so fresh for cinema that it didn't matter.

Speaking for myself, I don't think it's that big an issue and that people need to face the fact that modesty is a man-made concept, but it's interesting that this got passed in the United States as an "R" rated film, given that some of the most intriguing shots include teenage nudity. With a rather sketchy premise, I might add.

One more thing I might add: It was a so difficult to distinguish the plum girl, Karoline Herfurth, from Laura, played by Rachel Hurd-Wood, that I actually didn't realize the difference after I got back home. No problem, though, their aesthetic similarity made the movie more powerful in this odd, unexplainable way.

Vicky's Birthday

Telepopmusik - Love Can Damage Your Health (Promo Video)

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That last video was Love Can Damage Your Health by Telepopmusik. It's not a spectacular plot or anything, and the premise of the scene is a little sketchy at the least, but the video itself is truly a work of art. Plus the music's kind of addicting, as is all good French electronica.

And this picture to the left is Barcelona. A juice bar on the street corner, which is a common sight in Spain, supposedly because of the ridiculously hot summers. It makes me really hate this gray, "lukewarm" Ithaca that we have to put up with these day. There's not even snow on the ground, and I was thinking of riding tomorrow with Sasha, but the temperature's dropping again.

________

You know...for someone who hasn't ice-skated in years, I was pretty proud of myself today. I used to figure skate quite a bit. I was pretty good, actually; I've always had good balance in the sports I did, and I caught on to things very quickly. It was disappointing to me to realize I didn't have the skill I used to have, but it didn't surprise me that I could stay up on the ice and only fall once at the beginning. It did surprise me, however, that I remembered how to move. I'm definitely nothing compared to Vicky when it comes to skating, of course. She's pretty damn good. But regardless, I was pretty proud. I think I should do that more often.

It felt a bit weird. Danny and Amir and I were the only guys wearing figure skates. I wonder where the "figure skates are gay" thing came from. My educated guess would be that it stems from the relationship between figure skating and dancing. Dancing can be a beautiful thing. Hey, if we've got the dignity to do it, it just means we're just very secure with our manhood, right?

And come to think about it, a lot of cool things in this world are pretty "gay." Like Myspace and scarves and cranberries in your sandwiches. Not so much the quiches.

Being on ice is an odd feeling. It's not quite the same as rollerblading on the street, yet it utilizes more or less the same motions. The primary difference here is really the sensation you get when you glide. On rollerblades, you get this rough, asphalt sensation that kind of rattles you up to your knees regardless of how much you might have paid for them. Whereas on ice, the feeling's very airy, very carefree, as if one stroke of your legs will take you for a kilometer, if you had the room. It's always colder in a rink too, and it shows. There's something enjoyable about being surrounded by white and bundled in a sweater.

So after the skating escapade, we chilled at Vicky's, which was fun. Dinner, chocolate-coconut cake, and a rather odd pirate movie all preceded the present-thing. And unfortunately, I didn't bring my camera into the rink, since I sort of forgot to take it out of my bag. (Additionally, it didn't have a battery anyway, so what good would it have been?) Speaking of which, I was without one today. I ordered mine online on Monday, so it didn't have time to ship. But I think she'll like it. She's needed it for a while now.

Rommia needs to shut up during movies. :-P So does Mikayla, but Rommia's much funner to pick on.

Happy Birthday, Vicky. <3

Early January

But this time it's not. I got the '07 thing down by 1st period. Today was considerably more enjoyable given the recent week-long break. And most of all...there is no snow.

I was planning on doing some riding today in this unseasonably balmy, 50 degree weather but I figured my time could be better spent on the Commons. I don't even know wwhy I'm down here; I was going to meet a friend but I figure he's not coming; it would've been rather inconvenient anyway, so I don't blame him.

It's all good. I like spending time down here whether I have a point or not. It's calming, it's interesting, and best of all, I never feel obligated to do my homework. Which, today, I have a considerable amount of. I'll do it down here anyway, since I'm *psh* uh, such a good student.

Spill/Simplicity?

as if i left my sanity at home
i part with Juna's door
one hand on the handle
one on my existence
i take five steps forward
aimless steps
worthless steps
five bricks forward
that do nothing
but to deprive
me
of life
as my life
my life
falls out of my
hand
falls out of my
and fills the cracks
in the street so i go back in
to grab another one for
one dollar and
twenty-five cents

_________

First day home?

Feels like shit. I can't function today. You know what it feels like?

Okay. So think of a great big can of Dr. Pepper, all shaken up and ready to blow. And think of, instead of opening the top, suddenly the can is turned inside out and the gas dissipates ingloriously.

Oh, and simplicity? Ah, yes, the ever-so-elusive New Years resolution that's put somewhere on your list, and forgotten just as you realize that you want to keep the byproducts of life. You want to stay an incorrigible pack rat, hold on to the trash that accumulates in your house, or your computer, or your mind. It won't go away, because in reality, you don't want it to.

But I do. I want it out. Last month I remember sitting here at Juna's cafe after school, telling myself that I was scared of change. I told myself that I'd never feel the same way, that there was no way I could revert to my stagnant self. But weeks, later, I'm thinking to myself, where's the change? What have I to be scared of? What's happened to me?

On the bright side, my dreams have disappeared altogether. Sleep is a void.

Vicious cycle? Maybe. But if it's not change, then what is it? Am I complaining too much?

Am I thinking too hard?

__________

Oh, theres a change. This is odd...there's a line at Ned's Pizzeria.

And after watching this video, you can't say you don't have any respect for JT.

Come on people.

__________

“i'm convinced you're sad”

an unexpected response?

not really; predisposition is not

a crime

is it?

Have a lovely New Year. ♥

[Am I the only one confused by the lack of snow?]

January 1, 2007. Two-thousand-seven. I'm not going to get used to this. Didn't it just seem like yesterday when it was the year 2000, and the world was preparing for Y2K to come along and eradicate all technology on the planet? But in fact, it was almost a decade ago when we filled up our bathtubs to supply and closed all the windows and doors and did everything we could to keep radioactive fallout from entering our Tokyo apartment.

Before I begin, I need to apologize in earnest for anything dumb I might have said here. I may have been a bit drunk writing this post. Champagne doesn't mix well with exercise.

And here you go. First post of 2007.

____________

This year, dinner at my place was quiet. But the conversation over dessert was not only animated, but rough. Here we have guitar players and here we have coffee-shop philosophers, and here we have calligraphy artists and potters, all doing their thing at the same time. I personally engaged myself with the philosophers, bringing up an age-old theory that the Greeks tackled and could never solve:

Everything we do is in our own selfish interest. Pure altruism is nonexistent.

I felt awkward talking philosophy with other people four times my age. I felt a little dwindled, even (dare I say) intimidated, but I realized I'm no different, I simply have less experience. So it came as an ego boost when the conversation turned into a debate. I noticed a large divide between mothers and fathers. Mothers believe in pure philanthropy, while fathers seem to agree with me.

I don't know how it got started, but it was an interesting subject we dwelled on for at least an hour. Don't ask.

____________

So after filling up on cappuccinos and coffee beans, Kai and I were out biking and we pulled into Sunset Park in time for the fireworks and the changing of the lights this year. We rolled in as we heard the voices cheering in the lights. We chilled with Shelby for a minute, and soon the park filed out and we were the last two sitting on the stone railing.

It was time for us really just to reflect on the year past. It's been a pretty rough 10th grade, I have to admit, but now that I look back on it and see how much good has come out of this school year, I think...maybe it's just relative. Maybe it's just because 9th grade was simply the best fucking year I've ever had and that every other year to follow will never be the same. But in any case, I can only hope that next year goes smoothly.

Resolutions? Oh, yes I didn't have any until I rolled out of the park. I resolved to continue the tradition of going out to Sunset Park next year to chill in the cold and welcome the lights. I resolved to keep complications out of my life; make it simpler. I resolved to stop caring so much about society and to live the way I want.

____________

Kai and I made our way up to Simon's house, where he was watching the Real World: Denver with Zach and trying to get wasted. I don't normally like beer, but I applaud his taste in a Greek brew whose name I can't pronounce.

When they came out to greet us, Zach got us all locked out of the house. He wasn't even drunk. By the time Simon and I worked out an arrangement about whose shoes to wear, he went to get the backup key, but couldn't find the door it would open. I felt a little bad for Zach, who was the target of every joke for the next hour, but at the same time...that was a pretty dumbass thing to be doing.

We entered his house and chilled for a bit. By that time, the focus of the joke had shifted over to Kai. Poor guy didn't know how to react, but he got through without breaking down, so I respect that.

Simon (half-drunk): "So...Kai...what's your resolution? How's [Sonia and Beal], eh? You still gonna tap that? Huh? Gonna get 'em wasted?"

Personally, I was horrified by the thought. But maybe everyone else wasn't. I had to save Kai by assuring Simon that Kai's through that phase. Later on, he revealed to me that he wasn't over it.

But I can't say I blame him for holding on to his uhm, "old flames." We all have friends who we, even when we claim that they're nothing but good friends, can't help but, euh, keep the door open for exploration. (I'll be blunt. Every teenager on the planet has close friends who they'd be willing to fuck in an instant.) I'd have to admit to one myself. Come on. We all do.

And whether we like it or not, it's not going to change anytime soon. As long as they're your friend, you're always going to have to hold on to your hormones.

____________

On our way out, we got stopped.

I didn't feel angry. I wasn't pissed off. No, I felt guilty. Guilty that I was having a nominally good day and frankly, he wasn't. I felt bad for the cops who had nothing better to do than stalk the streets of suburban Cayuga Heights looking for people to pull over and take blood alcohol tests or whine about being out so late. I felt bad for those who did nothing but ride around in their cop cars when New Years came around. Who did they toast to? Who did they celebrate with? Who were they gonna get wasted with?

So if you're having a shitty day, just think of those poor souls. They're probably having a blast...

So have a lovely New Year, everyone. ♥

- Mirko