Highlights from the past week (in no particular order): calling Montezuma an asshole in my Literary Criticisms class; repeatedly using (and hearing other people repeatedly use) the term "shit storm" in my post-modern fiction class; the Rocky Votolato "house show" (more on this); reading the first 150 pages of Haruki Murakami's A Wild Sheep Chase in one day (I haven't read that much of a book in such a short amount of time in who-knows how long. If you look it up on Amazon, you can read the first 20 pages or so); building a tolerance to colder weather; working on a new short story -- a comedy -- that's already 12 pages long and could top-out at around 20 (I haven't written anything that long in who-knows how long); having my own completely unique (and kind of crazy) interpretation of a story we read in my workshop class; getting to stream Netflix movies on my Playstation 3 (aka Rock Band machine); connecting pieces of lower-Manhattan in my mental map of the city; becoming a pro at editing people's grad school essays; texting with Anne Marie (it's a start -- to a relationship, to friendship, who knows, but it's a start); finishing a four-page story where one of the characters only speaks in Beatles' lyrics; the beginning of year number six since my dad died.

Re: this last point. Time is crazy, huh? I've known Yannos and Ashley for six years now. Jesse for seven. The majority of my high school friends for nine or ten. Adam for some ridiculous double-digit (20?). How is it possible that so much time has passed? And why does it always feel weird/surprising to realize that? When I think about it, those times feel like years ago. But somehow putting a concrete number to it makes the feeling all the more surreal. Then, looking to the future: 25 is a quarter of a century, but it feels more like the half-way point, to me. I'll be honest: I don't expect to live long. I'll be lucky to make it to 60. Given family history and personal disposition, old age just doesn't feel like it's gonna happen. I'd be more than happy to be wrong about this, but I'm doubtful.

Okay, I didn't intend for this to turn into a major bummer. The point being: enjoy the time you're here. Which is why I went to see Rocky Votolato in a small, 50-person show. Just him, his acoustic guitar, and a harmonica. No amps, no speakers, just his guitar and his voice. It was incredible. He played four or five songs from his forthcoming album (they sound good), as well as a bunch of great tunes from the back catalog: "Portland is Leaving," "White Daisy Passing," "Alabaster," "Goldfield" (he said he doesn't play this one live too frequently, which is a shame. It's one of my favorites), "Tinfoil Hats," "Silver Trees." Then he opened it up for requests, which he admitted "always gets me in trouble, because I don't know how to play very many of my own songs." And, indeed, during the first request, "The Night's Disguise," he had to stop, turn around, and figure out how the rest of the song went. Pretty funny. After "The Night's Disguise," he played "Makers," "Suicide Medicine," and "Montana." A fantastic show.