A Blue Christmas without You

I am home. As in home-town. It's cold and it's raining and there's nothing homey about any of it. The entire place has changed in the past--jesus christ--almost 7 years. Seven years I've been gone, and back, and gone again. I don't know that I belong here anymore. I'm unsure where I belong really. I have a home in Austin. Right now that's the only place I want to be. In Austin with Austin. Regardless, here I sit with three coats on because the fucking heater broke. Yes. It gets cold in Texas once a year and that one time is the time our heater decides to stop heating.
I had to take a klonopin because I was on the verge of a panic attack earlier. Packing and the idea of flying home tomorrow irks me. My flight here was a nightmare. It was rainy and shitty outside and my flight was delayed, unbeknownst to me. This would have saved me lots of stress and panicking--throwing things in bags and busting ass to the airport. I had planned to carry everything on the plane to make it easier. But those were the good old days apparently. I knew I'd have to take off my shoes but I honestly didn't realize that the TSA would escort me out because I had a bottle of hairspray. So I threw it away and made it through security to find out about my delayed flight. So I go back out, get my shit out of the trash, put it in my bag, and check it. Cool. I still have my other bag, with the shit I really need. Except this time I don't make it through security somehow, and they DID escort me out, because apparently I look like I wanna blow up a plane with a bottle of perfume. Man I just want to go to Christmas with my family. Fuck. I couldn't help but let them have it. So I go check my other bag with ten minutes to departure, and make it back through security, thrice, JUST in time to board my flight. Turbulence the entire way, and I still haven't eaten. So I get to Houston but my bags do not. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. Instead they got put on the next plane from Austin to Houston because apparently Christmas packages have to be checked by the TSA. I am like what the fuck is going on in America these days? The whole world has gone crazy. I finally make it to Christmas like 4 hours late and proceed to get drunk enough on Merlot to argue politics with my dad. Ha. That's when you just don't care anymore. So I am now traumatized, and I do not want to have anything to do with the fucking airport tomorrow when I go home, although that's the only way I'll be getting there, and it's the only place I wanna be. Thank god he'll be waiting there for me.
Christmas was pretty cool, I got everything I wanted so I can't complain. I have a bad habit of doing so anyway. Right now I am nervous because in a few hours I'm supposed to have drinks with two old friends I haven't seen in years, and I don't know if I still know who they are. These were my sisters you see; but they left me at a crucial point--and I hate to say it but I believe that was the beginning of my downfall. I try not to blame them for not wanting to get sucked into the downward spiral I was most certainly in, but it hurt. I didn't realize until today how much it still hurt. I desperately want to be friends again, but there is so much history that I am just not a part of that scares the hell out of me. I feel ganged up on. I thought it was just gonna be Erin. What if they don't want me now just like they didn't want me then?? I know if that were true they wouldn't have called me this morning. But I'm scared nonetheless. Why is it that when I'm scared I just want to sleep? If I could get under the covers with my Bear forever I think that'd be okay with me, though that just won't do. If I'm going to live my life, I'm going to have to confront it.
So being "home" has been a huge disappointment. All the friends I had before are gone. And I had lots of friends. No one answers their phone for me. They don't know me anymore. Truth is, I don't know them anymore either. I'm just so goddamned lonely. But we are going to the bar tonight. It is Christmas Evening. Everyone should be in town at their parents' and ready to get the hell out of the damned house. People I haven't seen in years. Ex-friends. Ex-boyfriends. I've been so concerned about Erin that I just realized there's a great possibility that I will run into Joey, or worse, Gingerfish with his new fiancee.
Man fuck that.
I bet I'm prettier than her.
That's what counts, right??

Ho Ho Ho

MERRY CHRISTMAS!
I promise I'll get back to writing, that's my Christmas gift to you. Along with the universal gift of humor. (See Above.)
xoxo,
Blush

Merry Christmas

Our cool fiber-optic tree. Happy Holidays!

Mother? May I?

So it turns out that the editor really liked my review--enough that she wants me to be a regular contributor to the e-zine, meaning she'll pay for me to go to shows I wanna write on and all. Rock the fuck on. And so now I'm published; and you can read me (if you haven't already in the last post) right here!
Scroll down and you'll see mine. I'm so proud of myself. Everyone has praised it and I'm starting to feel like this is something I could really do. Something I'm good enough at to make a life of. Well besides having children one day. However fearfully, I've been thinking more and more that instead of some liberating career, god put me here for one very simple reason. Unconditional love. And I'm not one to argue with god, no way. I trust him to liberate me in a way no job nor career ever could. So I'm thinking about being a mom, as a career choice, traitor to my generation though I may be. And for the first time ever, motherhood sounds really fucking appealing. I guess that's what being in love is about though. Right?

http://www.stavemagazine.com/

Dear Kurt and Dearest Conor:

I am up late after working nine hours straight, all fucking night, and now I'm listening to Bright Eyes, but feeling rather like you, Kurt--I just wanna get high. I wanna forget all this shit. I'm so very sad, and even lonlier, tonight. I settle for White Zinfandel and funny cigarettes. And even more cigarettes after that. My lover is in the other room, in bed, wanting nothing to do with me, although I don't know why. I fear that he simply loves drugs more than me, or even himself. I'm done with that shit now though. I have to be no matter how awesome it would be to just binge for a week. Fucking aye. But fuck that. I'm so angry at myself for coming here of my own volition. Now I realize what's really going on, but I'm in too deep now. I feel so angry. Angry that I let myself fall in love when I fucking knew better. You know I knew better! God I do love him. I'm tempted to say "loved" because I don't know the man sleeping in our bed anymore it seems. It hurts so badly I shut it out. It's all I can do. Ya'll know I never drink alone--but here I am, face warm and I've got to take a piss already. I'm afraid. I'm so afraid that I know what I'm going to have to do--and I don't want to do it. At all. Fuck this shit. It's not fucking fair. It's so hard to have faith when you're smart enough to grasp the reality you've put yourself in. And the reality is that there's nothing and no one you can count on --fuck what "he" says. The universal "he." He'll always leave you and in the end all you've got is Blush and if you're lucky, a Danielle or two. But I just had to fall in love with him. I just had to. It's never going to happen is it?? Kurt, please tell me otherwise--please tell me things will be normal if I just keep believing. Tell Him that. Tell Him what you learned and what you regret. Please do it for me, because I fucking love Him. I fucking adore Him.

Conor--thank you for always knowing exactly how to say something I need to hear. You have a knack for that. I've never felt so comforted as by your voice. When you're here with me I don't feel so alone. Please stay with me until he comes back, because it's hardest to be alone when you're right with the one you want--I'm sure you understand. So stay with me until he's back to being my Austin, because he is coming back to me, you know, my Austin?? Right?
Love Always,

Blush

Small Time Band--Big Time Sound

I knew that A Pocketful of Deng was about to start their set because suddenly there was a crowd where only a handful of people had just been. Minutes before, Red Eyed Fly was littered with wandering 20-somethings with seemingly nothing relative to each other, save their cans of Lone Star Beer. All this changed as five finely dressed young men with unkempt hair and chronically un-tucked shirts took the stage.
A Pocketful of Deng are a five piece, Austin-based, experimental/progressive rock band, and arguably one of the more entertaining bands in their oftentimes pretentious sub-genre. This is really just Rock and Roll. Encompassing everything from punk rock to jam bands, Pocket play to their own crowd, unique as is the band itself. Forget The Scene; Pocket deliver what most up-and-coming bands these days cannot; something for everyone. The band’s eclectic sound is a direct reflection of their fan-base—a delightful mix of all kinds of music, for all kinds of people.
Blonde and right in line with the likes of Robert Plant, Vocalist Patrick Husband knows his audience. He knows they want him, regardless of whether it’s known to them…yet. With an elegant but haunting moan, reminiscent of The Doors’ Jim Morrison, Husband lures his listeners through the looking glass and into a world of metaphor and make-believe. A night with The Deng is just another trip down the rabbit-hole, a question mark in a vast field of absolutes. As lead guitarist, Travis Larrew takes on the role of The Pied Piper, leading listeners on their journey with tightly hewn guitar licks, demanding riffs, and a style he makes his own.
Listing influences such as Radiohead, Beck, and of course The Beatles, Bassist Jackson Ellis has a difficult time describing A Pocketful of Deng as only one entity, as each member’s differing tastes can sometimes clash so that they actually sound brand new. Their sound seems to constantly develop on its own in front of the crowd, growing with it, and I can’t help but feel that none of this was planned at all—it all seems to happen spontaneously before my eyes. Billy Gardner’s stage presence and proficiency with the harmonica bring subtle soul into the mix, deconstructing the traditional formula for rock songs with a fusion of blues and punk, entwined neatly with galloping rock anthems and good old dance-floor rock and roll. Ellis, Gardner, and Larrew’s chemistry on stage is truly Pocket’s strongpoint—watching them play together is as natural as it gets, convincing the audience that this was all somehow meant to be.
High-octane melodies and Rob Edmiston’s drum-fueled rhythm, combined with top-notch showmanship prove to be Pocket’s greatest strengths and immediately sets them apart from every other long-haired rock band you’ll see in any given bar in downtown Austin. These young musicians aim to please their crowd, and that they do, very obviously, with much pleasure. Except that the pleasure was all mine. If musical diversity and the lyrical revival of acid-rock pique your interest, A Pocketful of Deng have just what you’ve been looking for. A trip with The Deng proves to be a refreshing, if long-awaited, trip down the rabbit-hole.

When All Hell Breaks Lose

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think. I don't know what to write. Hence the silence. No I haven't forgotten my craft--the hiatus was necessary to protect the not-always-so-innocent. Heh. Seems like I've gotten myself in another pickle. Nothing I can't get out of. I'm a sneaky one I am. But I'll talk about that in due time. It's too soon to know anything.
No I'm not pregnant. You've got to be kidding.
Even though I do fear he is the proverbial One. And you see that's the problem.
He's got a problem. The very same one that I share. Except that he's not here right now because of it and now we are both lonely. And scared.


I've said enough now onto the good shit--
I've got my first writing "gig" for an online magazine promoting local bands. I wrote my first live show review for my boys in A Pocketful of Deng. I just turned in my final draft, so it should be up soon, I'll have to show it off to ya'll. So in the spirit of getting back into the spirit of writing again, I thought I'd share that with you when it's up and online. Baby steps, right?


Talledega Nights is the funniest shit I've seen in ages.

Nascar Sunday

Yesterday I attended my first Nascar race. It was a spectacle of American Engineering. The Dickies 500 at Texas Motor Speedway. I can't even tell you how awesome it was. We had pit passes and we got to see into the garage and all the pit stalls. We saw two of the more popular drivers, Denny Hamlin and Kasey Kahne. I even got to touch Jeff Gordon's tires. His fucking tires, man! Super sweet. We were in the infield, which is inside the track, and sat inside Turn One to watch the race, if you can call it that. Those cars go so fast it's hard to even focus your eyes on them. Apparently they broke all the track records for speed yesterday. I think they topped out at 205mph. I have so much more respect for every driver out there on the field. That's scary shit. And it's so loud. Even better than a rock concert. It was unbelievable. When they started the race I almost pissed myself. Haha!
Here are some more pictures. We didn't get any of the race because the camera battery went out during the rain delay. But I'll never forget how it felt--in fact I'll remember every Sunday.














Touching Jeff Gordon's Tires














Jimmie Johnson's Car Under Inspection



Rain Delay



Thank You Austin!

Long Time No See

Yeah. So I've been busy, but perhaps you figured that. I promise I'm doing okay. I work everyday and usually only have time to be with Austin before I pass out sleeping. I have been very stressed out; I haven't felt like writing. Some things have happened, but not my usual shit. It's hard to be dreamy when you're always sleepy. I fear I am always sleepy due to stress and an improper balance in my brain chemistry. Oh yes. I did have a breakdown a week or so ago. My mood stabilizers ran out and I pretty much just lost it. I was a crying wreck, it was awful. So I put in a call to my mom who put in a call to my doctor and got me another prescription quick-fast and in a hurry. I was okay by the end of the night; I had just finally caved from the stress. But everything was peachy you thought? I'm sorry to disappoint.
Things are rough all over.
My jobs suck. Yes both of them. I mean they could be worse, but they could be better.
It's been rough being in a new relationship at times. We've been through the getting to know one another fights, and the ridiculous fights, and the extremely serious fights. I still feel the same way about him and him me. And the make-up sex is unbelievable. It's strange, but wonderful. I adore him, though I wonder what is wrong sometimes. We've talked about how each of our parents used to fight when we were young. I wonder if we are merely destined to repeat patterns. If so, I'm fucked.
I met my one year anniversary of moving to Austin, which was a huge deal. To have stricken out on my own like that, away from my family and my father, well that was most definately the wildest thing I've ever done. He told me I could never do it. I guess I did anyway. I have a habit of that.
I think it's just divine providence.
One of the things that is helping me to do that is Austin himself. We've combined forces so that we can both have a roof over our heads. Not that we don't like each other as well. So he's moved in. This makes things complicated because for the first time I find myself in a very adult relationship, one where money rears it's ugly head occasion after occasion. When you're poor that tends to happen, especially when you're both "rich kids." But seriously, I'm in uncharted territory here, as I'm sure he is. Here we go again into the unknown.
Last month Steph and Meagan and I went to the Austin City Limits Music Festival here in town. We only went on Saturday, and really, I don't know if I could take all three days of it. It was dirty and hot as hell, but seriously badass. The first show we saw was so rock and roll. This emo-kid named Ben Kweller was playing when his nose starts bleeding profusely during the first song. But he kept playing. And when I say his nose was bleeding I mean it, it was bleeding all over his guitar and everything, making for excellent imagery, what with the emo vibe. Meagan loves this kid and is all, "oh poor baby!" and I'm like, yeah right. Poor baby--*snort*
...Now that's rock and roll. To have your nose bleed on stage from partying all night and play through it bleeding all over your instruments. Haha! Fucking aye. They finally had to haul him off stage after he bled all over the piano in the fourth song. Then we saw The Shins, and then The Raconteurs with Jack White. This was my highlight of the day. Jack fucking White embodied rock and roll I swear it. He channelled Jimmy Page up there. It was like having an hour-long eargasm. Rock. Next we saw Willie Nelson. This was a show that thoroughly astounded me. It had been hyped up around town something awful. You gotta understand that Willie Nelson is the epitome of Texas Music down here. He's worshipped like some kind of Saint in this town I swear. And that's my parents' music. My mom even saw Willie at a similar festival (the Picnic) when she was my age. So it was funny to me that all these punkass kids were so hype to see Willie; it was the rowdiest, hardest to get into crowd at the whole festival. And when he went on I knew why. I have never seen someone with so much soul in their face. You feel like you really are in the presence of some kind of divinity or something, it's crazy. Or maybe it's just the pot. Haha. But really, the night was so sweet--listening to the music that my parents fell in love to, and watching my own generation of Texans fall in love to the very same sounds. The last show we saw was Massive Attack, which was again funny because we had just come from Willie and trust me those are two entirely different crowds. It was like the most badass rave I never went to. Because raves were lame. But this one would have been badass.
And it was.

Don't be a Hard Rock when You Really are a Gem

I'm not gonna force it. Things are coming to me slowly. I can't believe it's September. Labor Day has come and gone and I'll be putting my white shoes away. I'm dyeing my hair tonight. It will come out Aggie Maroon. It always does. My little brother is in college now. He is a fish in the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M University. I hear my father is elated. I'm hoping to catch a game this year. It will be my first in a long time. I know this is retarded Texan bullshit but this time of year--football season--and everyone in school, makes me think about what might have been. It will be many years before I will be able to go back to school. I'm sure my brother will have graduated by then. But what can I do? What's done is done. It's sort of a self-defeating prophecy for someone like me but I fight the shit out of it. It seems easy to feel like my life is ruined and relatively worthless so I question my efforts sometimes. I feel like I missed my shot and now I'm the washed-up athlete turned coach or something similar. It's not such a bad place to be, honestly; but the pang of broken dreams remains. Not to be confused with the birth-pangs of new dreams. Growing pains I suppose. I've been alone for a long time now and being with someone again has been a shock at times. I've grown selfish in my ways; I feel like I've had to in order to be able to get anywhere after the poverty of being imprisoned. I feel like I've had to in order to be able to trust anyone after he destroyed me. I'm warming up to it but it doesn't feel like it used to. It feels like I'm in slow motion. But I think that's a really good thing. I think it only means that I know too much now. I think it only means that I'm a woman now.
And I think that's okay.

Lie With Me And Just Forget The World

There is so, so much. Too much, but never enough. I have two dollars to my name. Excellent. I am a recovering drug addict as is my lover. We are both bipolar and I don't have a car. It's raining outside, which means it's not hot, but it also means it's raining. And I need to wash the sheets. I'm scared but I don't know what of. I have nearly everything I wanted back when I had nothing. Not even a pillow. I have much more than I could ask for as I have much more than I deserve. This weekend we went out in Austin's mom's black Miata with the top down. As Chappelle says: it was the most baller shit evah! Really though, I'd never ridden in a convertible. I loved how you could smell the summertime in the air. And then this song came on the radio. I lay my head back and watched the sky stand still as we sped through the city, my hair whipping through my vision, making a perfect photograph in my memory. And that's all I wanna do. Lie with him and just forget the world.
But duty calls, as it always does.

It's Been One Month

And I Absolutely Adore Him.

Valley of the Dolls

So last night he talked to me. Then we made love. This morning I talked to him. Everything is fine--we are back on the same page. I feel so close to him again. He's having what I can only call bipolar problems. Missed a couple of doses and can't remember why he's alive. He feels like a fuck up because of the drugs and the rehab and the general fucking up. It hurts him like it hurt me. It still hurts me sometimes. I told him the things I had learned the hard way. I told him how lucky we were that all it takes is a pill to make us feel normal because most of the world needs a hell of a lot more than that. I told him of how it took "fucking up" to realize that because I couldn't be married with my degree at 22 since I was already 23 and in jail, doors opened for me that I never knew existed. Suddenly I could be anything and everything else. Just because that's what we've always thought we were meant for does not mean that's the truth. You can't always give into fate; sometimes you have to fight it, sometimes you have to make life happen. Sometimes you have to do that by taking a fucking pill everyday for help. Fuck it, why not? You're a drug addict anyway, make it a game. That's what I do. Yeah, it fucking sucks. But it's better than the alternative.
And you know what the alternative is.

Jam for the Day: Fighter by Christina Aguilera

Put It Down On Front Street

Something is up with me and Austin. Or maybe just Austin. It's worrisome and I'm a tad bit melancholy over it. I feel so very far away from him, and it hurts me to see him obviously unhappy, though he vehemently denies it. What I understand, which is very little as he totally avoids discussing it, is that he is afraid that things are perhaps moving too quickly and because his last relationship kinda hit him hard, as far as being able to love again, which I completely understand. It's just hard to see him and know he's got something on his mind that I could perhaps soothe, but he just won't let the cat out of the proverbial bag on this one. So he is being all nonchalant all of a sudden all, I'll see you when I see you type shit. That's okay. I feel positive I will see him/smell him/feel him once again soon.

Hold on loosely; But don't let go
If you hold too tightly, you're gonna lose control...

In other news, Steph and I went to Barton Springs today and had a great time. I don't think you can go to The Springs and not have a great time. Things are going well at my job, although I'm still having trouble paying the bills, which I doubt will ever go away so I'm pretty zen about that. Last night I went to see Joey's brother's band play downtown, and took Meagan with me. Joey, and his brother, and his little sister were all there so Meagan got to meet a part of my past face to face. A pretty big part, I mean I was part of the family for so long. Joey's sister ran up to me and hugged me. She's a married woman now! It was pretty cool seeing all of them again. I was just so happy to be remembered. I worry about that, I don't necessarily know why. But how ironic is it that the first night Austin and I are on the outs and he wants to go hang out with his friends is the very same night my major ex-boyfriend is in town and is where I'm going to be, sans his girlfriend and my boyfriend. What kind of shit is that? Of course I told Austin and asked him if he would be uncomfortable with that and his answer was "I don't give a fuck." I wasn't sure how to take that, except that he really might've given a fuck. So I didn't want to go cause I knew it would look bad if I went by myself so I'm glad Meagan was able to come because I would never want Austin to be jealous, because he has no reason to be. I hope that's not why he's acting this way. I hope it's because he just loves me and doesn't know how to deal with it all just yet. I don't know why that's what it would be, but I can still hope, right?

Someone Fix Me; And Please Hurry

I had a bad day today. I told Austin on the phone. He picked me up from work with a single long stemmed red rose. It was so sweet and fragrant and I was simply elated. But then we get home. I walk into the house and there are more long stemmed red roses in a vase on the coffee table. There are even more hidden throughout the house. There is one on the bed and Ghirardelli chocolate bars on each pillow. Then I go into the kitchen to just get some water and I find that he's stocked my once (who am I kidding, always) empty refrigerator. And the cabinets too. There's even a bottle of my favorite wine in there. I am truly speechless. All I know to do, as well as all I can physically do, is throw my arms around him and cry for pure joy and gratitude and love. It was the most amazing thing anyone, especially any man, has ever done for me. I'm so overwhelmed, but in the bestest way. I couldn't stop telling him I loved him. And what's worse is that I really really do. I couldnt stop looking at his sometimes green, sometimes brown eyes. I see things when I look into his eyes that scare me because I don't think I'm ready for them. I'm fucking scared. I'm insecure. And I don't deserve this. Any of it. I never did. As beautiful as it is--and it is fucking beautiful--it's all I've ever wanted in a man: someone who cares enough about and truly loves me enough to go above and beyond what it takes to make me not only happy but fucking elated, and of His own accord, because He wanted to. Because he wants to see me happy. And I am totally fucking elated. But then I'm not. I withdraw. Why the fucking guilt?! Fucking always. And I'm totally fucking gone on him, do not get me wrong. It's just this inner guilt that I've carried around inside since I was molested at age 4. This inner guilt that I have no real good fucking clue how to get rid of. And it's ruining my life. My fucking life. But as happy as I was tonight--and am everyday--with Austin and with everything he is and is not, I can't help but feel fucking guilty because I don't think that I deserve him. Any of Him. It's a goddamned awful feeling. I think I upset him tonight. Because I think he could tell something was wrong with me. I know he took it the wrong way. Why wouldn't he? It doesn't even make any goddamned sense! I just don't know what to do. The very last thing I would ever, ever want to do is hurt him. I'm in it for the long haul with him. Don't ask me how I know, I just know it. I just don't think He knows it. And I have no idea how to tell him. I'm so fucking scared. I'm a big pussy when it comes to shit like this now. It's all their fucking fault you know. Fuck those previous pricks--they couldn't ever hold a candle to my Austin. I can't believe I'm allowing my ugly feelings toward them affect the most beautiful feelings I've ever had--for Austin. I just wish I knew how to make him know it like I know it.
Sigh.
And if I'm lucky, one day I'll realize that I do deserve Him (because I do) and I'll never feel like a dissappointment again. Because I want to be everything to Him, and Him to me, but mostly I want Him to know that I'm His.

He's Been a Bad Boy in the Best Way

I can't help but start this out with Oh my god. Ya'll will never believe it. Blush is in love. This sounds crazy and I bet I get some flack for this going so quickly but looking back, this is just how I roll. But I'm in this now, Come What May. Austin. Damn ya'll. I've only let you in on the hearts and flowers thus far so I'm unsure where to start. Been too busy falling in love but here goes.

Austin is a recovering addict. That's sort of how we came together. The day we went to Barton Springs some shit went down and he randomly got ahold of me for some refuge, knowing that I would understand. And did I ever. That day was really magical, and I attribute it not only to that apple blossom fragrance of love in the air, but because Barton Springs fucking rules. It really is magical. Even Meagan mentioned that being a really special day. The next night we spent alone together. We talked about everything. That's how our relationship began. Completely open communication. It fucking rules. Nothing is taboo, we both have pasts, there's no denying the truth, and it's out, and it's the most beautiful relationship I could imagine having these days. These days. That sounds funny.
So it's been three weeks and we finally discussed our feelings. We get along like gangbusters, that ain't no thang. But of course I was terrified. After awhile the stress was getting to me and I started acting like a bitch. I couldn't believe it. Me. But I held it in still. I finally broke down and had an anxiety attack over a couple of different perturbances, but of course I didn't tell him that I might want to be his girlfriend or something similar. I cried to him over my mom and my money and his mom, it was ridiculous. But check this--and don't freak out--he's bipolar as well. This is sounding crazier as I go, I know. He was so wonderful to me, I mean, he understands. Like I understood. We understand each other. His background is extremely similar to mine. White middle class suburban. Just he in a larger, more liberal city. He is very smart. Starting back at Texas State next week to finish his degree in Anthropology actually. So don't get the wrong idea. He might've been in the game back in the day--and he was--but he's a nerd. And as big of a dork as I am. I almost can't believe it. I feel like it's all too good to be true.
I love his glasses.
So finally we're in the bathroom and I'm putting on makeup one night and he tells me he thinks he's falling for me. I tell him the same. Commence the fucking. And it's never been like that. Seriously. As much as I want to go into detail I won't because that's Ours. Hehe. Just trust. Pornorific as it were, I've never felt so close to another person in my life. It was confirmed when he asked me, during, if I felt that way as well. So I know he's down for me too.
We actually used the word Love. Big word.
I know its only been three weeks. I know.
But I really am! Shut up!

I know this because I love his dog, Marley. Supposedly the most ill-behaved dog ever, but fucking cute as shit. And I don't like dogs. Like really at all. But I find myself talking to Marley on Saturday afternoon after brunch at Kerbey Lane inviting him over to my house and telling him that I'm gonna take him to Barton Springs, etc, etc. Whoa. And I didn't even care when he chewed on my shoes and pooped on the floor. It just made me laugh. Dinah was pissed. And I mean pissed. She hates other animals because she has an ego problem because she's little and she fronted on Marley and we had to put her outside. I put Dinah outside for Austin's dog. Holy Shit. I'm totally gone.

Jam for the Day: Ain't No Other Man by Christina Aguilera cause that's my girl

Morning Glory

It is and I am. Maybe it is because I am. Maybe because I am, it is? Is it? I can only suppose so. I think I've stumbled into one of my many dreams by perfect chance. But for the first time I am feeling something different, something real. Or at least based in reality. I have a hard time denying the dream, lest I debase it and all that we are. It must be because I already know he's most definately not perfect. I will tell you how I know such things in due time. But for now, I'm glowing, and I'm enjoying myself. I don't usually do much glowing before The Today Show comes on and I get to see Matt Lauer, but He woke me up this particular morning in the most glorious way. I only wish you could see the way he looks at me. That's the only way I could even begin to explain. It's the way I've looked at Joey before. It's the way I looked at Gingerfish. It's mostly the way I wanted them to look at me. One hundred-thousand pretty words could never ever begin to account for even one half of a look like that.

I crave the way He looks at me.
I crave the way He talks to me.
I crave the way He touches me.
I crave the way He kisses me.
I just simply crave Him.
Just as He craved me this morning.

Jam for the Day: New by No Doubt

Fata Viam Invenient(the fates will find a way)

Blush, Meagan, and Samantha at the party.
And that's a fake tattoo I got out of a vending machine for 50 cents because I'm a dork.

---

So where to start? Oh I know--
Austin
We've been together every day and night for the past week. You'll be hearing quite a bit about Him in the upcoming times we will (eventually) get to spend together again. Ah, how I miss those times with you. I'm just working so much and playing so much that I really miss my time here with ya'll. I'll do what I can to make time. But just for you.

OMG it's fucking football season already. Well, almost. This year has fucking flown by. I live for football season. I mean, I am a native Texan.

Also this past weekend Danielle came down for an impromptu visit to see Rob, and I'm telling you those two make a great couple. Sickeningly sweet. It makes me really happy though. We all went out to a big Sunday lunch as couples and had a generally great time. Parties all weekend, Samantha and Meagan's coming out of high school party, etc, etc. The great part about it is that now Danielle has been integrated into my "scene" so that all my friends are friends with each other now. We are all friends together, and it's awesome. Danielle was quick to point out to me on the phone that just last year I was crying to her because I never thought I'd have friends or a lover again.
Isn't it ironic?
Don'tcha think?
But I digress.

Let's get back to my Austin--
He brushes my hair from my face gently and randomly
He kisses my lips ever so softly
He kisses my face all over, even my eyelids
He then kisses my forehead
He stops to smell my hair before
He looks deeply into my eyes
And then I forget
The world becomes a blur...
He told me Thank You.
I didn't understand why I should be thanked. I was more than happy to give myself to Him. It's a gift I want Him to have. He holds me after we make love. I lie my head on his perfect chest, truly speechless. That's when He talks to Me. He says cryptic things concerning the two of us that I don't understand but instead I feel them. It's a powerful understanding. He told me He only hoped I wouldn't tire of Him too quickly. I whispered that indeed that was my own fear as well. Then I had to open my big mouth. We drank a bottle of Riesling that night and I was feeling pretty nice and tipsy. So I went as far as I dared. I told Him that my Heart wanted to tell Him things that my Head wouldn't let me. He just softly told me not to let one get in the way of the other. I agreed and admitted that that was the scary part for me. He agreed it was scary for Him as well. Then he held me tighter.
I don't remember anything else because I closed my eyes and woke up in the morning when none of that--in fact--nothing else mattered but
this beautiful man
in my bed.
Austin...

I'm so infatuated.

So maybe I have a fear of relationships now. So what? I don't feel like I need to define something that is coming so naturally--we're having too much fun for that kind of bullshit. So I'm avoiding talking about "us." Other than that guess what?

I'm really fuckin' happy.

Jam for the Day: Live Through This by Hole

Barton Springs

My first trip to the historic Springs.

Texans have been cooling off here for centuries.

"This is a really spiritual place..." He said as we took in the view.














Everyone in town was there. Saw lots of people we knew.

I am so fucking short I swear.

I love this girl.

The Springs are like a pool, but natural. Rock and moss floor.

A constant 68° year-round and the deepest azure blue.

The diving board was the shit. I've never felt so refreshed.

Meagan and Austin.

My bosom buddies and inadvertant tour-guides.

Jam for the Day: Lovebuzz by Nirvana

I Was Half Asleep When I Wrote The Last Post

You should re-read it now. Really. I'm serious.
Come on. Do it.
Nobody's perfect.
Though it's not that I'm not half asleep now. But it's better.
I Promise.

Austin from Austin

Something fucking amazing happened this weekend. It starts with an innocent message, takes me to Barton Springs for the first time, listens to music and dances with me on Sunday afternoon, and makes love to me while looking into my eyes. That something is still in my bed this morning. That something amazing is named Austin. And he's wonderful. And I can't believe it. It's too good to be true. I can't go into too many details right now; I'm on a schedule and I still need to get back in bed to "wake him up," but I had to tell the world about Him, so to speak. Or at least ya'll. Heh. But I don't wanna leave you so excruciatingly hanging like that so I will tell a bit about my new man. A friend of a friend I've been acquainted with for several months now, He (again) is only 21. Not your usual 21 year old though. We have too much in common, if you know what I mean. But we have so much more in common than that even, which I simply cannot believe. You don't find many people like us out there. Seriously. And you wouldn't think that would be a make-or-break factor but it really is. I need a guy that can hang with me. That could have hung with me, and has the potential to hang with me in the future.
Check it out: He loves country music. But listen. He likes other music too, Radiohead for example. But country is his favorite--he "grew up on it" and doesn't give a shit if his friends hate it and think he's a dork, he's gonna listen to it in the car anyway because he doesn't give a fuck and is proud to stand up for what he likes, regardless of public "opinion." Kinda like me and Courtney Love. I can get down with that. He's also a fan of Bright Eyes. Yes. I myself was raised on a mixture of music, much of this being the very same "Texas-style" country music, so I think it's totally cute. Mainly it reminds me of good times perhaps? It's not my first choice, but I can totally kick it country-style. He said there was this particular country and western dance hall that he'd always wanted to go to but never had anyone to go with because everyone else is so lame. I was immediately trying on my old cowboy boots--very expensive maroon leather Tony Lama's with bright pink butterfies I picked out when I was young. Seriously. They still fit and they still rule. That sounds like hella-fucking fun. I could probably drink and Two-Step with Him all night long... And that's just one tiny example of why I think I may be falling for this Austin. He's real. He's a dork. He's got glasses. He's brilliant. He's funny. He's a Taurus. He's gentle and He's beautiful, and He's seemed to come out of thin fucking air, just as I had given up. It's amazing. And he actually likes me. He told me so, but more importantly, he's showed me so.

Jam for the Day: Fade Into You by Mazzy Star

You Taught Me Everything About APoisoned Apple

They say be careful what you wish for. I finally have the life I've always wanted and now I don't have the private time I'd gotten so used to nor do I have the time to write nor really even think about what I would write, although I see things I wonder about all the time. I even bought some fucking books to read and I don't even have time for them! (Those would be: Living Buddha, Living Christ by Thich Naht Hahn and A Million Little Pieces by James Frey, by the way.)
I went to a great party last weekend thrown by Emilie, a kindred spirit of mine, in which I knew almost everyone. I feel so established here in Austin, I know in my very soul that this is where I ultimately belong. After my travels and international love affairs, of course. But I digress. There were many people from Freebirds there. Remember that amazing night I spent with Jesse? He was there with his virgin girlfriend. Of course I acted cool; how could I not? I mean it's me for god's sake. But all kidding aside, that was simply frivolous birthday debauchery. That was months ago, I mean really. But at the party, when I innocently asked him where I could find the beer, he totally avoided looking me in the eyes. And you can bet I was paying good attention. All the while I'm remembering that the last time I'd seen him when I was working like a week beforehand he'd grabbed my ass, however subtly, as he walked by--and without even saying a fuckin word! And now he suddenly can't look me in the eyes to answer a simple question?! I don't understand guys. Lost all respect then and there. Why does he have to be so damned hot though? But that's how they always are. I've resigned myself to that I'm afraid. They make you think they're worth something, that they have something to give, then they can't/don't/won't deliver. Whatever. Story of my life. I'm over that. Yes, I'm lonely. Whatever. I've been lonely most of my life. I'm no stranger to it, as I laugh in the face of loneliness on a daily basis, however bitterly. Fuck it. I just don't have time for a man I can't fucking respect. Not anymore. And most definately not ever again. I'd fucking rather be Alone. I have the best friends a girl could ask for presently, and I'm simply overwhelmed with gratefulness at the turn my life and my very self have taken in the past year. The cool part is that I am still Blush. And I know I always will be. But I am like, Version 2.0 or something. There is more, there is less, there is different, and there is indifferent. (It makes me devastatingly curious about what may happen next...) Although apparently sometimes it can be quite overwhelming to people, as it to myself sometimes as well. I mean, I understand better than anybody. It only sucks that sometimes I would rather certain people simply be whelmed with me or something similar. Yes, whelmed. Or something similar. You know what I mean. No, you probably don't. You win some, you lose some. Right? Whatever.
All Apologies.
Happy Birthday to Dean Simon, and of course, mi hermana Daniella.
Did you know I was bilingual? Me niether. Pero hablo Español en todos dias a mi trabajo nuevo. Although it's been years since I was thisclose to fluency, I thought I had lost it. It really is like riding a bicicleta.
I love my new job. Words cannot describe how happy I am there. It's been quite accurately described to me as "the Cheers of gas stations."
My favorite bar, Ego's, which is next door to The Station and across from Freebirds even, plays drunken Jeopardy (with Alex Trebek) every weekday with the television at five o'clock, which happens to be right after I get off work. Rock On. Jeopardy just happens to be my favorite fuckin game and I've been playing along since I was knee high to a June Bug. (That's East Texan for small child.) I can't wait to go in there and whoop some barfly ass.
Oh yeah.
Last night Meagan, Samantha, and I all drank glasses of Riesling and smoked fancy cigarettes and read each others' poetry and art. Meagan delved into profundity when she wrote:
"the result of apathy, in everyone, is addiction"
I was stricken. Wow.
I once fancied myself a poet but gave it up long ago and have considered it an embarrassment ever since. But I felt so comfortable in their presence, I gave in. It's been published, so I guess I don't have anything to really be ashamed of. It was nice. A very intimate night indeed. They seemed to really like it, and I'm inspired to share a bit with you tonight.
This is for all the people out there with so much to say and no one to really say it to--
Shoes
Too much revealed...
Learn to keep it sealed
I thought open was a good thing
But now I know it's nothing
I give away too much of myself,
Try and try though I begin to melt
Melting away at my very core
Just can't do it anymore
Day after day
I regret the words I say...
Silence is golden
I must learn to hold
Back; and hide my personality
I'll live in an alternate state of reality
Staring blankly, hiding fear
I dare not even shed a tear
Silence is broken as is the night
I run away from the terrible fright
Of being myself; Could I be someone new?
No, I doubt I'd fit those shoes.

Jam for the Day: Drain You by Nirvana

The Little Engine That Could

So. So much. So much to say. How to say it? I haven't known how. It's getting so damn personal. Suddenly my fear is mucking up my creed. Creed. To thine own self be true and shit. Keeping it real. Whatever, that's all stupid angst kiddie shit. But this strong-willed angsty child doesn't seem to care so much anymore. Therein lies the problem. The rebellious, angsty child is at war with the conformative, demure woman inside of me. Laugh all you wish, but she's there. She's growing stronger by the day, and is embarrassed and repulsed by more and more. Ha. Me. Who would have thought it? You think the Middle East is in turmoil. Try dealing with opposing factions in your own mind. Yeah. I do it on a daily basis. So I turn myself off. I have to. Rock on. Laugh at the bad things and cry for the good things. Every now and then I'll get lost in a movie. Rock on. Sometimes special things happen that all of myselves agree on and enjoy. These are the happy times. But sometimes things go wrong. I guess this is what it means to be an adult?
I broke my celibacy over the weekend. Yeah, I totally caved. I just needed to feel strong arms around me. I was so terribly lonely. I broke down and called my 21-year old. He came over. He's different this time. More reserved. I had told him over the phone that I was celibate and that I wasn't feeling well anyway. And I had planned on staying celibate, I just wanted some male company. And then he starts apologizing to me. Tells me he's sorry for being so pushy. That he realizes he was being a dick and it's just that I'm "so sexy." He told me he liked me. He didn't say it like he liked me like that, because I don't really see how he could as he barely knows me, and as I've made it abundantly clear that I am in no hurry to have a boyfriend nor a relationship from day one. He said it like he meant that he cared about me as a person. This is something that I've been dying to feel from a guy, be he 21 or homeless or handicapped, whatever. I have lost nearly all my faith in that the male gender has any kind of capability to actually care about anything but themselves, ultimately. Sure they may have a whole list of things that they also like. Women being last on that list, I've felt sure of it. But he seemed genuine. At least he made me believe it at the time. And he wasn't all over me. Which, of course, turned me on. He spent the night for the first time and we had a pretty good time altogether. I was really surprised and I'm not sure what I think of it, because I don't like him like that, but I don't want to be lonely either. And more and more I'm reminded lately that I'm more and more lonely lately.
Recently I introduced Rob to my best friend. Ya'll know I've always had a little crush on Rob, but it's never been a romantic crush. He's just a great guy friend whom I care a lot about. Of course they hit it off like gangbusters. I knew they would. But I didn't know it would go as far as and like it has. It's not really a big deal, and to be truthful I'm very happy about the situation. There's nobody I'd rather him or her be with, and this would be the first time I would have gotten along with one of her guys, which would be nice for a change. But to be even more truthful I'm fucking jealous of them as all hell. The very idea makes me want to Destroy. Kill. Hate. Problem is, I don't know whether I hate the idea of losing my friends to each other or if I hate that I lack what they represent, ultimately. Either way I get this fucked up feeling that it's the beginning of some end.
And Meagan man, she's out of high school and really coming into her own. She's the little sister I never had. Now that she's found it, boy, she's got it. And getting it. Good for her. Guys are hitting on her, she's hitting on guys, and it's actually working. Heh. Never really has for me. I'm convinced it's because I'm an overweight loser who talks too much. I'd give anything if someone could convince me otherwise. In fact, that's all I ask for in this life.
I met my boss's fiancée today. Her name is Tesha and she's 27 years old. My boss is closer to 50. He's pretty good looking, and so is she--to say the least. When I talked to her we immedieately clicked and she straight up told me--verbatim--I like you already. We agreed that we should hang out. I told you my boss is the biggest bullshitter, as am I, and we get along so well that he's told me a lot of shit you wouldn't think the boss would tell you during your second week of work. But he told me about Tesha. And wouldn't you know that she's got basically the same "past" as I do. In the same county even! In fact she's still on probation for it. Just got out of rehab not too long ago. Well Hell's Bells. It's not often that I meet people of my ...background that have been through all the drug shit and the jail shit and made it out to live again. I mean I don't know any. But now I do. So I told my boss to tell Tesha to set me up with one of her cute guy friends HER age. Fuck all these little boys, but I'm not really looking to hook up with Mr. Robinson either.
What else?
I never get time to post anymore because my friends are constantly coming by. Be careful what you wish for I guess...
August will be the first month I pay my own rent and all my own bills. Ever.
I'm going to Austin City Limits Music Festival on Saturday in September. I'm so hype. Drunken Lens is coming down for it and we're gonna hang. Fucking aye.
I think I'm going to get my tattoos redone and dye my hair dark brown with chunky blonde highlights and thin light pink highlights.
There are a million types of Gatorade now. I remember when there was only Lemon-Lime. Am I old?
I became addicted to Diet RockStar (energy drink) just yesterday. It's liquid crack.
Oh.
The Fire.
So Monday night, after coming home after working since 8am, I walk into a house full of smoke. Not thick and suffocating, rather, it was a thin but definate layer of smoke throughout the entire house. The smoke detectors are quiet as mice. At first I thought it was incense. But how the fuck would incense still be burning after 12 hours? So I freak and go all through the apartment looking for a fire only to find none. I am so confused I'm starting to panic. Luckily I had Bryce and Will with me. It was dark, and when they found the lamp, they noticed the mantle above the fireplace was smoking in one part and the wall was black. Oh did I mention the entire house was black? Everything was covered in soot.
Apparently I had missed a candle when I was blowing them out after my night with my 21-year old. And it burned all the way down and caught the pictures next to it on fire and destroyed them and melted my cell phone (which was broken anyway from dropping it in the club in Dallas) and had caught the drywall and the wooden block mantle on fire. It didn't spread because of the firewall, thank God. But that wooden block was just embers. I couldn't take it. I hadn't had my meds in two weeks and I just laid in bed and cried. The boys went into action and fixed it for me. Meagan shows up about 5 minutes into this, thank God again. Because my panic attack set in and she eased me through it. It's going to be okay, really, and pretty easy to fix. The boys said they would help. Now that I have my medicine (can you tell?) it's a pretty funny story and I'm actually looking forward to my little "home improvement" project.
Can you believe that shit?

I Smell Smoke! ..........Fucking Shit.

Eventful Monday night to say the least. I'll explain, when I finally get a free moment. I'll try for tomorrow night. How's that?? ...please say it's okay...
I'm working 60 hours a week. Yeah, heh. Wish me luck with that one, lazy as I am.
It's so going to pay off though.
Rock.

Jam for the Day: Light My Fire by The Doors (but of course)

Life's Been Good To Me So Far

Oh man. I am really happy with my job at Chevron, which I've been calling The Station, so we'll go with that. The Station is right across the river from downtown, and right across from Freebirds, in a prime location so that we get a fair share of tourists and it's quite nice. There is a mural of Stevie Ray Vaughn on the outside wall. We are family-owned and sell lots of locally-made products, which is a big deal in Austin. (Keep Austin Weird.) Since we're family-owned, and simply lease out Chevron gasoline, instead of working for The Man, I'm working for someone who actually knows me as a person. This makes for a nice environment. My boss, the manager, is nuts. In a good way though. He's older and made his money as an executive for Whole Foods and does this for his friend to keep himself busy. After his divorce I think he started partying or something. He's the biggest bullshitter you ever met. Half of my job is just spent bullshitting with my boss. Or bullshitting with customers. We have lots of regulars. Like me; I was a regular. It may seem kind of funny that I'm so happy to be working at the fucking gas station but I doubt I'd ever work at any other. It's fucking easy and I get to stay inside. (It's fucking hot outside.) I get paid more than I do at Freebirds, and the same as I did at my tech support job, with way less stress and way more bullshitting. (I like bullshitting.) I'm going to be full time and that means I will have full medical coverage, and money to pay all my bills. It's funny but this seemingly dinky little clerk job is seemingly the answer to all of my problems. Problems I don't talk about here because they are so mundane. It's funny how the mundane problems can really bring you down. But I guess having money to buy groceries so that you can eat isn't really all that mundane. I feel like a ton of bricks just leapt off my shoulders.

Having a job that gives me the opportunity to make someone's day just that much better makes me so fuckin' happy.

Ain't no shame in my game.

I Can't Complain But Sometimes I Still Do

This celibacy thing is a little more tricky than I thought. That's all I'll say about that. But I think it's definately a good idea. Though I fear I'll be awfully lonely and more than a bit boring. I love my new job at the Chevron. I'll be working all the time now so I'll finally have some money in my pocket. I am quite relieved about that. I also have good, close friends now that keep me occupied. I am quite happy with them. I have beautiful people to chat with during the in between times. I am quite happy with them as well. I am, however, troubled--by things so abstract nobody gets it, and it's not just you, it's just that nobody gets it. That's my problem. It's frustrating. Like today there was this Mexican gentleman in the Chevron asking for directions and have you ever given someone directions in Spanish?? Shit man. Broken Spanish no less. I just had to walk in at that moment. The problem is that I care too much. So I'm reaching for words and more or less straining to search the blurred archives of my brain and he's just looking at me, expecting me to give him what he needs. But I had only a bit of what he needed. I saw that the frustration in his eyes was just the same as in mine. It was awkward and I just wanted to get away. I feel exactly the same way now. I feel exactly the same way all of the time, about everything. Sucks.

Jam for the Day: Maps by The Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Leap of Faith

Dallas. Wow. We really painted the town Saturday night. From the club to the hotel to house. We just didn't stop. The guys put on an amazing show, really, the best I've seen of them. I wasn't screaming for nothing.
Band-Aids are there because of the music.
After hours of waiting through shitty metal bands for the results and slipping Meagan drinks, we finally got to go home to lick our wounds and drink some more. You'd think there'd be more to do at a hotel party. At the Plaza no less! So Danielle and I went onto the balcony next door and started making paper airplanes out of the phonebook and lighting them on fire to throw at our counterparts next door. Probably how Led Zeppelin got their start, eh? I came thisclose to pissing myself. Really. Yes, sometimes we act like we're 7 years old, so what? That's my sister and I never see her, so ef you. When we bored of that, we grabbed Rob and Jackson and brought them back with us to the house. Danielle's roof has this badass pool and hot tub and all us girls' feet were just screaming for it. Then of course was pool time. I stayed in the hot tub and watched everyone play. As the sun came up, and people coupled up, I didn't mind being alone. Because even though I was at that particular moment, I didn't feel alone at all. It was the happiest night of my life to see all my friends so happy together. And with me too.
I had my world.

Hold the feeling
When you really own it
It's not suitable for rhyme
It's what changes time
From a minute to a moment...

Finally I feel like I've rested. Seemed like I hadn't slept in days. I am actually without medication right now, for financial reasons, which fucks up my sleeping real bad. But I am toughing it out, brave little soldier that I am. Shouldn't last too much longer. Especially since I got a new job yesterday. Today I am officially a Clerk. I'll be peddling overpriced gasoline and overpriced cigarettes for Riverside Chevron during my days now. I know I mentioned this before but that's My Chevron, and as insignificant as it is, I'm really excited to be working there. Mostly for the prescription drug plan, heh. Can't live without that. But I'm also really good acquaintances with the other peeps that work there. This ghetto girl, named--of all things-- Danielle, got me the job. I think I have good luck with that name for some reason. But after being in jail for so long I've grown a deep affection for the ghetto girls, especially the sweet ones. Once last winter she helped me buy the good but cheapest kind of medicines they had when I was sick with the flu and my old roomate was in Lufkin and I didn't have anyone. I'll never forget that. I suppose in my own way I'm kinda ghetto myself. Well I mean I've seen more on the streets than all of my friends. I'm looking forward to getting to know her better. A girl can't have too many girlfriends!

Speaking of having too many girlfriends, I think I've made a decision. No. You wish. Worse. I'm giving celibacy a go again. The guys I've slept with haven't been worthy of me and I know it. It bites. And so another one bites the dust.
I challenge you:
Why waste my time with things I won't regret but won't remember?
Anyone?
I can only hope that one day a Man will come along that I find worthy enough to give myself to once more. It's an open-ended leap of faith for sure.
I won't be holding my breath.

A sarcastic asshole that can write like the devil will be the death of me. This I know.

The Deng Geng

Jackson

The Geng

Young French Attack

Band-Aiding

Early-Morning Gargoyles at Play

My Head Feels Like I Must Have Had Fun

And I really did. The Deng didn't quite win, but came close with a fourth place finish out of I can't remember how many bands, but lots of them. The guys took it pretty well. Frenchie got best guitarist so he won a new one. Rock. And they did. Obviously they should have won. I did enough screaming I think. Hopefully I'll find my voice tomorrow, because I've lost it today. Jeff Gordon won the race while we were driving home. I wish I had tivo. I'll tell ya'll all about my fantastical adventure tomorrow after some much needed sleep. I mean it's not just every night you see the sun come up...
in a hot tub
on a rooftop
in downtown
Dallas.

Jam for the Day: 40 Ounces to Freedom by Sublime (in it's entirety)