Major Events:
Marriages: Tracy & Scott, Phil & Jenny*, Mark & Laynie*, Cora & Labon
Jobs: Two.

Music:
Most listened to bands (via last.fm): #1 Coheed and Cambria - 328, #2 Vienna Teng - 290, #3 Joseph Arthur - 288, #4 The Weakerthans - 287, #5 Yellowcard - 270, #6 Plain White T’s - 233, #7 Nuuro - 212, #8 Anberlin - 207, #9 Fall Out Boy - 204, #10 +44 - 200, #11 Acid House Kings - 181, #12 New Found Glory - 167, #13 Rise Against - 163, #14 The Juliana Theory - 157, #15 Sherwood - 148, #16 Dinosaur Jr. - 147, #17 Modest Mouse - 138, #18 Mae - 134, #19 Relient K - 127, #20 Sugarcult - 123.

Concerts: None. I screwed up and missed them all.

And, most insignificantly:

365. And counting.

But this New Year’s comic strip from Savage Chickens says how I’d like to sum this year up:

Categories: Life
Tags: alcohol, lists, Music

I began the application for a job teaching English in Japan. This time, it’s the real deal, not the second-runners with iffy reviews and limited interview-locations. No, this time it could happen. I’ve got to finish the application by December. They do interviews in Seattle which helps. If I’m destined for Japan I’ll find out in March and fly there next summer to do the job.

I’ve also been looking at a program teaching English in Chile, but it costs money and most likely is beyond the means of affordability unless I can get a magical deferral on my student loans or some other sort of financial assistance. This one is more of a longshot, although equally enjoyable to contemplate for the sheer “holy f##k, you’d really want to do that?” responses.

---

My crush at work ended today. As I watched her blow the smoke from her lips, I could feel my insides sighing. At the same time, my body ached for the sweet familiarity of a second-hand cigarette and its nicotine release. The scent lingers in the fond memories of days past and places left behind. The memory resides on the same bench in my mind, at a railway station between then and now The Smoke sits with its worn shell and eyes looking downward at the pavement. Guinness and Corona banter about the old days.

“Yeah, I remember that jackass,” says Corona. “He was sitting in his recliner watching some Lindsay Lohan movie and he drank four. You could tell he was lonely. Still check his website sometimes and he still sounds like a lonely bastard, but he never calls me anymore.”

Guiness stares up with bloodshot eyes. “I know what you mean,” he replies. “We used to meet up at least every couple of weeks. I felt like we’d grown a strong bond, but now I hear nothing from him. Whatever, he can just rot wherever he went, it’s no loss to me. I’ve still got other people in my life. And even when they’re not there, I’m full of everything I need to get through the days.”

All of a sudden, Crown Royal, walks by pushing a grocery cart with bags full of cans and bottles. “What’re you pansies doing? What a bunch of f###ing whiners. People come, people go. Screw them.” He continues along and a wheel on the cart squeaks as he passes into darkness on the other site of the lamplight.

Categories: Life
Tags: alcohol, Japan, job

It sucks feeling down. The worst part is when you start getting sick of yourself and all the whining… just like this. This is the sound of me hating myself.

Fortunately, having friends around the world helps me keep my sanity. Sometimes it bums me out that most of my friends are in Nebraska out-of-reach except by wires or wireless. But I’m thankful they’re around at all. In the last week I’ve managed to talk to a number of people (Tyler, Cora, Jenny [& Phil sorta]).

Conversing with Tyler had me laughing harder than anything other than The IT Crowd, The Big Bang Theory, or Savage Chickens (read this one). Then some drunk a**hole passed out in front of Tyler’s house while driving and his head kept blaring the horn so Tyler had to go call the police. It still kept me laughing, but it ended the conversation.

I talked with Cora for 80 minutes. This is the longest phone call I’ve had in a while. Though I managed a solid 50 minutes with Luebbe the last time we talked.

I talked with Jenny briefly during lunch today. She and Phil are both feeling a bit better, but will continue to rest as they battle their separate woes. Also, she wants you all (who know them) to visit The Bolls website and leave comments so she’ll know you’re reading it.

I IMed Erika the other day. We talked about cooking, pondered the time-dilation effects of living multiple time zones away, and conversed quite pleasantly.

I talked to both of my bros today. Jesse turned 24, and Isaac bought an iPod Classic (80GB!).

So now I’ve told you what’s going on with a lot of people. Little things like these conversations help keep me going.

Categories: Friends, Life
Tags: alcohol, Cora, Erika, family, Jenny, Luebbe, phone, Savage Chickens, Tyler

It’s been 260 days.

Motion City Soundtrack - L.G. FUAD:

…
I wanna know what it’s like to be awkward and innocent, not belligerent
I wanna know how it feels to be useful and pertinent and have common sense.. yeah
Let me in, let me in to the club, cuz I wanna belong
And I need to get strong, and if memory serves
I’m addicted to words and they’re useless
…

Sometimes I still want to go out and get slammed. Stephen King describes his alcoholism well in his book “On Writing.”

I had forgotten the trick of being straight–and out of shame.

Hemingway and Fitzgerald didn’t drink because they were creative, alienated, or morally weak. They drank because it’s what alkies are wired up to do. Creative people probably do run a greater risk of alcoholism and addiction than those in some other jobs, but so what? We all look pretty much the same when we’re puking in the gutter.

He writes of a friend:

“How much do you drink?” the counselor asked.
My friend looked at the counselor with disbelief. “All of it,” he said, as if that should have been self evident.

I can relate. As so kindly pointed out by generations of alcoholics and their kin, alcoholism doesn’t end when you put the bottle down. Now I’ve got to learn to put down the pizza, the television, the HIMYM and Scrubs, the music, the movies, the books, the news.

Heck, while I’m at it maybe I ought to deny myself, take up my cross, and follow him.

Categories: Life, Lyrics, Religious, Writing
Tags: addiction, alcohol, Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Motion City Soundtrack, Stephen King

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.

Categories: Life, Music
Tags: alcohol, Jonathan Coulton, Stardust, Tom Cruise