Today’s the last day of the job. Afterwards, I will celebrate by returning home, not sleeping, taking a shuttle to the airport at 3AM, waiting for my 6AM flight, and flying to my homeland of Denver (while listening to Bright Eyes – “At the Bottom of Everything” and Sherwood – “This Airplane is a Ribbon“). At some point in life I’d like to watch the first episode of LOST on an airplane, but I’m not sure that’d go over well so I won’t.
So I’ll sleep sometime tomorrow and then begin enjoying my vacation. I CAN’T WAIT!!! Woooooo!
Update: Yup, I’m done done. I even escaped a couple hours early. Good thing, too, considering I haven’t packed yet. I’m rushing my laundry through during the next few hours and then I’ll be good good good to go.
Today I tripled the size of my vinyl collection. I now have three vinyl albums.
So let’s do the math here. Three albums total. The size tripled. 3/3 = 1. Therefore, the size of the collection increased by…
The Carpenters – The Singles (1969 – 1973): I have fond memories of singing The Carpenters at a karaoke bar in Japan in 2002.
The Worst Of Jefferson Airplane: I never realized how many of their songs I know from oldies radio. Plus “White Rabbit” is a total trip. Like, a trip to Alice In Wonderland. On shrooms. Yup, nothing like a drug-laced tale of psychedelia to set the kids on a good path through life. (Sidenote: If you’ve ever wondered what the deal is with this dog showing up in the art, you should read about the Victor Talking Machine company.) Credit to Lefsetz for mentioning Jefferson Airplane — it gave me a name to look for at the used record store.
I wanted to provide a brief amount of context for the poem A Warrior Cries. Yes, I did write it almost three years ago in 2004. I was looking through the poems I had posted today and wanted to post a non-emo poem. Poetry for me is mostly self-reflective, but here is an example of a poem that contains something more. Plus, the rhyming actually worked out well.
A Warrior Cries
A Poem by Erundur Anwamehtar
Everyday, the war continues
with flaming arrows flying far.
The warriors fight for countless hours
going forth, never back, beneath the stars.
A Hero arisen leads the fight.
He’s drawn many people to his side
and constantly they live in light
of His love. He gave all to stop the tide.
He gave them life, his life, and they live.
“I have come that YOU may have life!”
He shouts for men and women to give
their chains to him and leave behind eternal strife.
Many join – many, but not all.
Some hate the light, prefer blindness,
and run through broad streets until they fall
forever because they refused a Hero’s kindness.
Rally, men, rally to his cry!
Turn, women, you must open your eyes!
Look now, all, and realize
you must be on the right side
before you die
fighting for lies.
I’m sitting in the same chair, staring out a different window, and wishing I wasn’t here. The scenery has changed, but I haven’t.
Try this on: an alcoholic is not the same thing as an addict. An alcoholic is an addict who drinks alcohol. An alcoholic can give up alcohol, but it doesn’t mean they’re not an addict. The addiction begins to manifest itself differently. For instance, I sit in this chair and stair out the window while listening to various music (It’s Like Love, Jonathan Coulton, Mae) and checking Facebook too often. All I really want is to be out of my house having coffee or dinner and talking about things that matter.
Why sure, this awesome folk song about Tom Cruise “matters,” but it’s not the same as living.
(Buy from the Jonathan Coulton store)
Update: So I went out and had Qdoba for dinner, meandered through Barnes & Nobles primarily looking at graphic novels, and then went to the theatre and watched Stardust. The movie has me wishing I had a wall on the other side of town I could walk through and begin a star-chasing fairy tale.