Home Alone

I am alone in this big old house and it is too late, too quiet, and even though every light is on, too dark.

I am alone in this big old house, sitting at the bottom of the stairs, wishing you were here.

I am almost nineteen years old and still afraid of staying home alone.

Let's Talk School.

School and frustration are words that just seem to belong together in my vocabulary. In most cases, this frustration has little to do with homework, classes, or academia. It is instead a general lack of respect for sensitivity, expression, and humanity that just really irks me.

I have spent thousands of hours at Crescent Valley High School. It is a second home. It is time that I wish I had spent elsewhere, however, because as students we have failed to treat our school as an extension of our homes.

We should work to create an environment in which we are entirely comfortable-where we are all guests in each other's space. Relax. To the individuals who seem to see school as a place to obtain attention rather than knowledge: I want to feel honored and pleased to share space with you rather than feel as if I must compete with you for breathing room. Back off, quiet down, you are proving nothing with your alpha male bullshit.

Instead, take time to notice the beauty of the land on which our school is located. Appreciate the qualities, talents, and individuality of your fellow students. Say hello and smile at people you pass in the hall even if you don't know them. It is so much more fun this way. I know, because I tried being an asshole once. It was pretty entertaining from time to time to talk smack to people but at the end of the day you just feel like crap. The opposite is true of the approach I suggest above. You will finish the day with a sense of true satisfaction.

As a somewhat related side note, don't throw your shit on the floor. If you spill your bowl of soup, clean it up. If you find it amusing to smear spilled soup all over the hallway as a group of Juniors appeared to yesterday, that's cool! Smear that soup, kids! But then get a couple paper towels and clean it up. Anyways, now I just sound conceited. But what can I say? The cream of chicken incident really got to me.

And to finish this thing off, here's another great, great song from a band that changed music: The Pixies. I figure that if I keep writing in this blog long enough I'll get around to explaining what this band means to me. It would take a while, though, and its nearing 2am. We'll talk later, but for now turn up the volume and hit play.

Shostakovich

Raindrops, Gardens, and Bright Eyes.

My spirits rise with the sun and fall with the rain...so living in Oregon can be quite a drag from time to time (Ex: March 30, 2010). Spring rains aren't half as bad as Winter ones though-that's for sure. The occasional sunny day will pick you up enough to get you through to the next.

Recently, I've discovered the therapeutic value of gardening. In my back yard I am in the process of digging out a medium sized (30x20) plot. I planted cucumber, squash, broccoli, carrot, watermelon, pea, bean, and lettuce seeds all of which germinated on my bedroom windowsill. Recently, I moved them outside. I no longer must use my red spray bottle to watter the plants, as the rain is taking care of this chore for me. I am reminded that as depressing and utterly shitty as wet days in our fair state can be, the drizzle-and sometimes downpour-is essential to the growth of these little plants.

Looking forward to the arrival of a truckload to topsoil for the garden plot. Then I'll transplant and erect some kind of fence to deter deer. Photos shall follow!

On another note, do yourself a favor and download (or buy an actual CD!!!!) "I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning" by Bright Eyes. There is not a song on that album that isn't both poetically and musically astonishing. And if anyone tries to tell you Conor Oberst is emo do me a favor and slap them.

Where I Live.

Today

Tomorrow

Corvallis

Vancouver

Cello.

This is what I do.