I just got done reading The Heart of the Matter by Graham Greene for my American Lit class. Now, usually I'll read a book for class and be like "well that kind of sucked" and then go on a rant about how just because something's old doesn't mean it's a classic. But that book is seriously one of the best books I've ever read. It's slow in parts but the ending is incredibly powerful, and probably the best look at suicide that I've ever seen. It's not gory, but it's incredibly passionate. Really goes through what a suicidal person must feel before he does the deed. Beyond that scene and the preceding scenes of a man's complete and utter mental breakdown, it's an incredible look at faith, in this case the Catholic faith. Not my favorite group on the whole, as some of you know. But this book painted them in such a human light that even I was touched. At the end the wife and the priest are talking, and it goes like this:
"It's no good even praying..."
Father Rank clapped the cover of the diary to and said furiously "For goodness' sake, Mrs Scobie, don't imagine you - or I - know a thing about God's mercy."
"The church says..."
"I know the Church says. The Church knows all the rules. But it doesn't know what goes on in a single human heart."

I don't know if that means anything without reading the book, but I wholeheartedly recommend it. It's beautifully written and terribly powerful.

Other than that, school is going to kind of suck this semester. I can't remember spanish enough to take the class I'm in. And... poetry is full of poetry people. And if you're reading this, and you know any poetry people, you hate them. That's just how it is. Those people suxorz. They're pretentious little art fucks who think they're better than you because they know all these big words no one ever uses, and they think that all because
something is
written
like this
that it is something
special

Fuckers.

Anyway, my car's going back into the shop tomorrow. If I can get it to run long enough to get it home from the shop with no problems I'd look into selling it. If I could only ride a bike 65 miles an hour, I'd swear off cars forever. I'll hopefully be moving in with Danny this weekend. That'll be a load off my mind. I've been kind of beat down recently because of all this shit, but I'd like to give a shout out to Eric, who can't read this because he doesn't have his computer hooked up to the internet, for helping me out through this more than anyone else (except Leslie). He's calmed me down on more than one occasion, let me play Goldeneye with him, and gone to a concert with me. Yay Eric. And Yay Leslie. And even though it's his damn fault this living thing is going on, Yay Charlie. And Yay Danny for letting me move in with him. And Yay Cam for being Cam. And I think that's all the Yays I have for today.

I thought I was running out of clothes but then I realized Leslie just put my shirts on the other side of the closet. It was like striking gold, I don't have to do laundry for another week.

I think I'm going to sell a lot of my CDs soon. I have too many to even be close to fitting in my cases. But we'll see how that goes. Probably not well. I always scan for CDs I don't need anymore but then I always find one good song that makes me not want to sell the CDs. But I know I have some I'll never listen to again. So if the car starts working I'll do that.

Armchair Martian was really good the other night. Chad didn't play bass for them, it was some goofy tall guy who sung like four songs. Three unreleased songs, I think, and the other one was 17 Years. So maybe they're getting back together? That'd be cool. Though I'm not a big fan of that new singer of theirs, and Jon didn't have any new songs. But whatever. They need to put out a new album, that's all I'm saying. Until nextime.

Hey. I just got back from Florida. The past couple weeks have been busy. Leslie was here. Brian was here. I was in Florida. Leslie and I hung out. Brian and I hung out and made a movie. I went to Busch Gardens and the beach in Florida. Today on the way home we discovered that overnight an entire colony of ants moved into our car. I hate bugs. We spent like 9 hours squashing ants because they kept crawling on us. If they had the sense to stay in the damn trunk and not get on us they would have survived the trip. But now the car is full of dead ants. There was also a huge fly in the car. Dad poked at it with a book to get it to fly out. It was like two inches long and fat. It just looked at the book and was like "Bitch, I ain't moving." So he pushed it behind the back seat. It came and terrorized us later on the road. Dad squished it and it was gross. Now my book has goobers all over it. I did however finish my latest book "Running With Scissors." It was good. Very entertaining. I really could have done without the graphic depictions of gay sex, but that's really not a slam on gays, it's more the fact that I could really always do without graphic depictions of any sex. But it was incredibly engrossing, that guy had a messed up childhood.

You'd think after so long I'd have something to say. You'd be wrong.

To the guy who signed our last post, you signed Brian's post. He is from Virginia. I, however, am from Fort Collins. I don't work at Papa John's, I work at Subway on the CSU campus. It was an honest mistake and I got the message anyway. You're not the first to be confused by our weird two author deal here. So yeah. Hey man. What up.

My grandparents in Florida are weird. Last night after we got back from Busch Gardens Grandpa Murray had printed out a list of 13 principles to lead an effective life and handed one out to each of us, including my dad. He then went over each item in detail. It was like being in school. In fact, all the time we spent with them was like being in school. It's not like meeting with family, it's like taking an oral test. I am apparently a failure because A)I'm an english major which is equivalent to throwing thousands of dollars and four years of your life away and B)I haven't planned what I want to do after school. I apologize to everyone for my lack of direction, I never realized how offensive my behavior was. I'd shape up but I'm too damn stupid.

If you're reading this and you know me, you're invited to come down to a barbecue in Greeley on August 14th. My girlfriend and some of her friends got the idea to throw me a welcome home BBQ. So if she gets to have friends over, so do I. So email me if you want to come, or leave a comment or something. I'll mull over the list of people and invite only the best and brightest.

I haven't slept well in days. I keep waking up at six and not being able to fall back to sleep. Therefore I am either very fun or really boring to talk to, since I don't know what the hell is going on. Like right now, I'm not sure what I'm typing. I think this may have something to do with the fact that my girlfriend is in Seattle with many male friends of hers. I'm insecure as Charlie knows because I feel I have very little to offer in the way of... anything, really. So that could be why I'm not sleeping. Another reason may be the constant fear I live in because of all the terrorist threats.

Timesplitters 2 is cool. Hey, Charlie's having a rough time it sounds like. Comfort him because he doesn't deserve to be unhappy.

Blah blah blah. I think I'm dying. Wait no, still just tired. I have a short story I'm technically working on. You can read it if you're nice. Send gifts. Later.

PS- I ain't proofreading this, so if you want to bitch about my typos, kiss my black ass.