I've been waiting at least a year to be able to say this: It's over. I'm officially leaving Texas. As of the early part of next month, I'll once again be a resident of the Buckeye State and the fine city of Columbus, OH.

I know I'm sitting here in a hotel room outside Cleveland, in a town called Independence no less, typing these words at 2:00am because I can't sleep, and I still don't believe them. I've been carrying the news around all day, and I still haven't wrapped my head around it. I spent two and a half hours on a plane, and two and a half hours driving to Cleveland after that, but it still hasn't managed to completely set in. I'm officially done with the entire state of Texas. Christ, there's a part of me that never thought I'd be able to say that.

There's a lot of detail here that most of you have not been privy to. Back in July, after a few months of job searching with moderate success (nothing great, but some decent options if I decided to leave), I asked for a meeting with my two bosses, and told them that I was interested in leaving Texas to be closer to my friends and family, and that I would like to continue my employment with the company (and begin some further career development), but not in Texas or anywhere that could be considered part of "The South." I hoped they'd be willing to at least discuss our options, and they spent two hours going over with me the available possibilities. From there we had more meetings, and a test run last month of what it would be like for me to work from here. To their immense credit, they've made every effort to make the transition happen, and in a timeframe that met my expectations.

Over the last month, things have gone back and forth. The bosses to whom I directly report bought in to the idea immediately, and have advocated my relocation from the beginning, but as with many other oddly-run organizations (putting it charitably), there were a significant amount of hoops to jump through before I could get the final word that I was leaving with the company's blessing to do my job from our soon-to-be office in Columbus. Today that word came, just before I left for the airport. How's that for timing?

As you already know, I'm on the road for the better part of September, and most of my stuff is still in Texas, so I have to go back, but this time as a visitor, and not as a resident. I get back to DFW on the 28th, and I'm hoping to come back home the following weekend (10/3 - 10/5), but in case I have to do a bit more training, I'll definitely be gone in advance of Tom's wedding weekend (10/10 - 10/12).

That means no more useless voting in Texas. No more 90 degree fall days in Dallas when I should be tailgating outside the Horseshoe. No more missed Thanksgivings and Christmases and birthdays. It means more time with my grandparents, who have done everything short of bribe me to come back for the last five years. I hope it means feeling as good as it felt to tell my mom that I was finally going to be somewhere closer than a plane ride away.

To their credit, my friends and family in the loop have been astoundingly patient and supportive while I was going between joy and disgust each time this process took a different turn. The number of people peppering me with calls and texts about my residency, inviting me to things once I get back, making plans to take trips, it all gives me pause and underscores how hard it's been to be so far away these last five years. I can't thank everyone enough for all the love and backhanded smart-ass remarks over the last couple months. One of my good friends in Texas said yesterday that a lot of people say it, but it's obvious that friends and family mean the most to me, and I'm glad to be making good on that perception once again.

I really can't believe it. I think my body is worried that if I go to sleep, it will all be forgotten when I wake up. I wanted to bounce off the walls tonight; I stopped at Max & Ermas and read The Dispatch, and after that, at the top of my lungs I sang the Josh Rouse song from whence the name of this journal comes on the way up I-71 and pounded the ceiling of my rental car in celebration. I can say with confidence that this is the last time I'll visit this state as a resident of Texas.

I'm coming home after five years. It's a good day to be alive.

Looking out the window here at B terminal in CMH, it's tantalizing to know that it's approximately 65 degrees outside when you know that by the time you get to DFW, you'd better brace yourself for 95 freaking degrees. I think that my frustration with Texas is consistently playing itself out through complaining about the weather, but it really is miserable. Calgon, take me away.

Though I always feel like I could have seen more people or done more things every time I come home, this week was pretty well spent, considering I was actually "working" for most of it. I got to see a great many people, who graciously made time in their busy schedules for me, and I very much appreciate that. It's nice to know that you can get in touch with people and still meet up on very short notice (sorry, gang), and they won't (always) big time you. I have some pretty classy friends, to be sure.

omainnin, his wife, and I were talking about various things Tuesday night in the secret garden, not least among which was our affinity for the general OH/PA region, and though I've done my best to get as far away from it as possible, this region and these people are where and with whom I am the happiest. It's a harder pill to swallow than you might think.

When I was in Oklahoma trying to decide where I should go next, the first question from anyone I talked to about it was "Well, are you going to move home?" I recoiled immediately at the question, for a couple reasons. The driving force behind how I felt was that I was of the belief that I had failed as a graduate student, despite the fact that I had passed my exams and received a degree. It was, however, the first time in my life that I had failed to meet an academic goal (getting a Ph.D, becoming a professor). In my guilt-stricken, perfectionist mind, I had let everyone down, most importantly myself. I had moved halfway across the country to pursue something I couldn't get, and that was one of the hardest things I've had to deal with in my brief time on the planet.

So, going home after two years in Norman felt like giving up, even though I was in no position to financially support myself, and probably should've done something like move home. I felt like I'd be going back with my tail between my legs; the Prodigal Son returning home after wasting all my inheritance on three month benders with Plato and Aristotle. There are far worse things than never becoming a Philosophy professor and working a "joe job" at Best Buy for two years to pay the rent, but good luck convincing me of that in April 2005. There were days when joining the Army looked like a better idea than going home.

To look at it from another way, and give myself a little more credit, I think I also knew on some subconscious level that I had to push myself to figure out exactly who I was going to be in the wake of not making it as a philosopher. That's not to say that I had to go to Texas to do that, but I do think there was a part of me that felt like there was work to be done before I could accept going back home, because I knew that as soon as I went home, I would just settle into a routine of seeing the same old friends and trying to live the same life I did before I left.

Obviously, I'm in a much better position now than I was three years ago. It seems obvious to say that I appreciate Ohio a lot more now after three years in Texas, but it's not one of those "you have to go through the pain to appreciate the joy" arguments that I hate so much. Though the weather will be much better, and I can see more friends more often, the real reason I appreciate Ohio much more than I used to is because I have a much better understanding of who I am and what's important to me than I did three to five years ago.

I think that because I spent most of my childhood without the "traditional" family, given that my dad split and my mom had to work all the time, I started a long time ago making my friends into de facto family members. I'm fiercely loyal to the people I care about, and I get a lot out of trying to participate in their lives in a way that is helpful and positive. By far, far more than anything else, the relationships I have are the most important thing to me, and not being able to experience those relationships in the way I'd like has been the most miserable part of living in Texas. As obvious as that seems, it took me two years here to figure it out.

As much as I'd like to ramble on about this, they're starting to board my plane, so I have to be going. I would, however like to express my gratitude to those of you whom I was able to see or talk to this week, and tell you that I very much appreciate our friendship. I'll be back here on the regular soon enough.

I've signed up a team for the North Texas Race for the Cure, which is taking place Saturday, June 7th. I am in desperate need of your hard-earned money so that it can help fund important research towards finding a cure for breast cancer. So, please visit my page and give me your economic stimulus checks:

http://race.komennorthtexas.org/site/TR?pg=personal&fr_id=1020&px=1223653

Anything you can give in support of Team Laser Cats would be greatly appreciated.

Laser Cats!

I had a long, crappy day at work today, but I received the first disc of the fourth season of The Wire via Netflix, as well as The Holiday, so I can finally see for myself whether Jack Black is doing an impression of me on film for a couple hours. There are also exciting results to pore over from New Hampshire.

For the rest of you, I give you this:

'cause this big old river, will kill us in time.
'til then, we'll drink it's weight, in cheap beer and wine.
We can drink just as fast,
As the river is strong.
And we'll drink 'til we're gone...

I wondered at first why I heard from some of my Best Buy friends first on Thanksgiving, but I remembered pretty quickly. I guess they'll be linked, at least for a while. Take a minute today to appreciate the people in your life that bring you joy on the regular. Good friends are perhaps the greatest gifts we're given in our time here, and I am thankful for those of you in my life that I am lucky enough to call my friends. In particular, I owe steveland a debt of gratitude for hosting me for the holiday, and allowing me to get drunk on Alabama Yuengling. Cheers.

Alright, so some of you are privy to the fact that I've been sitting on a big announcement for a couple of days, so I could do this on 7/7/07. Theories were advanced by some, speculation, etc. was had by many, the sun rose and set, and somewhere Scott Baio had sex with a woman he doesn't love.

Get to the point, Giles!

Alright, so as many of you know, earlier in the week I offered to craft mixtapes for those of you that would be interested. (Quite frankly, I'm still pissed at steveland for not taking me up on the offer.) It was certainly a fine gesture on my part, that much is obvious. What we both didn't know is that it would lead to something that has the potential to be a lot bigger than you, me, and the dramatic "chipmunk" combined.

Those of you who know my good friend Jay Kelly will not be surprised by the fact that he's been trying to get me to start a podcast for the better part of two years. In 2005, before podcasting became the internet fad it is today, Jay told me that it would be one of the "next big things," and that I should get on it as soon as possible, that I would be great for it, etc., and I pretty much took it with a grain of salt. Jay, after all, is a self-titled serial entrepreneur, and I am definitely not.

So, when Jay started his own Jesus-centered podcast company last year, I congratulated him and wished him the best. But when he told me earlier this year that he's been working on non-Jesus related projects, and that he wanted me to seriously consider producing a podcast that they would market and try to blow up like whoa, I started to listen a little more. I told him that if the right idea ever came along, that I would be willing to do it.

Well, this past Tuesday, that idea hit Jay like a ton of cassettes. Not long after reading my post here offering to make mixtapes for people, Jay frantically called me explaining that he had the perfect idea for a podcast. And lo, "The Art of the Mixtape" was born.

So, we started putting ideas together. Publish a weekly-ish podcast where I put together a 5-7 song mixtape based on themes drawn from listener-submitted emails. Each week would tell a different story, plus distribute some great music. The music itself won't be played, because that would be ridiculously expensive, but we can talk about the songs and tell stories. The end game of this is to have the podcast sponsored by an online music website that could offer to sell each week's mixtape in addition to hosting the free weekly podcast, and then go from there.

Since Tuesday, the wheels have been turning feverishly. You can now find us at:

http://www.artofthemixtape.com/

and,

This MySpace Page

And you can send emails to:

giles@artofthemixtape.com

(ALL OF THESE ARE UP AND RUNNING NOW. Use them.)

I'm calling into the recording studio tomorrow morning to lay down the first two episodes, including the first mixtape. The first "primer" episode will be available on the website for free subscription on Monday (or so Jay tells me). Everything is in place to run it reasonably well now, but we want to eventually take it to another level. This is something Jay and I are taking very seriously, not just to make money (though that is a goal), but to do something that has the potential to be really fun and make people's lives marginally better.

What I need from you is this: tell me what you think. Subscribe to the podcast, look at the website. Give me all the feedback that I can handle. We really want to take this idea and blow it up, so we need honest assessment from people like you.

Review the sites. Listen to the podcasts when they're published. Tell me what you think, and most importantly, TELL EVERYONE YOU KNOW ABOUT IT. Have them become our myspace friend. Seriously, help us blow this up.

Alright, I'm going back to work on this, but seriously, let me know what you think.

For those of you who know the former roommate of steveland and I, one Jay Verba, he and his wife Danielle are now the proud parents of a healthy baby girl, who was born at 10:09pm on June 27th.

Her name is Alexis Sophia Verba, she weighed in at 9 pounds, 4 ounces, and was 21.5 inches long. Both mother and baby are doing very well.

Oh, and Jay's birthday is next week. Don't forget, Steev.

Seriously, stop it. Everyone just cool your jets on the whole "getting married" thing. I can't take much more of this.

One of my best friends from high school called me today to let me know that he's getting married. In three months, that is, before he leaves for London to live there for a year and a half or something like that. Let that sink in for a second.

Combine that with one of my oldest friends getting married in August, and that's a lot of frequent flyer miles I'll be racking up. Looks like my trip in the fall is going to be to the greater Philadelphia area, and I'm probably going to have to fly back from there to Dallas, and straight to Little Rock for the conference. Good times.

Any attractive ladies available as a date for the following?:

Wedding #1: August 18, 2007 in Columbus, OH

Wedding #2: September 22, 2007 somewhere in the greater Philadelphia area

Both weddings will be really fun, I'm just not ready for everyone to be married yet. Can't we all just be 22 and single again? I'm not ready to be an adult.

In addition to my New Mexican friends and the former official roommate and his wife, I'm happy to say that my good friend Patrick Vrobel and his wife Erin are expecting their first child in September. TV weather man Mark Nolan is said to be disconsolate over the paternity test results.

In all seriousness, congrats to Pat and Erin. Let's hope the kid doesn't take after his father's super-human strength and crush all his playmates.

I spoke to two former official roommates over the last few days, and some congratulations are in order:

1. Congrats to my college roommate Joe Dack, who is now engaged and asked me to be in his wedding (scheduled for Summer 2009). All the best to you and the future Mrs. Dack.

2. Congrats to my Oklahoma roommate Elliot and his wife Sheryl, who now reside in the far Northeast (Farmington, Maine to be exact), and are expecting their first child, who will arrive sometime in late November, if all goes to plan. I will be happy to be the Godfather, as long as I can perform all Godfatherly duties as Michael McDonald, which probably just means I'll have a beard and sing "What a Fool Believes" all day.

I was joking around with my friend Linda, whom I torment by constantly referring to her new son as my godson, by saying that if Christian wants to remain my favorite (as Elliot is expecting a child and so are my friends from New Mexico), he better step it up. How a 2 month old "steps it up" I don't know, but he better get to it. If I'm gonna do a lot of Godfather-ing, these kids better earn it.

I can't sleep, which isn't really different from any other night this year, but tonight I decided to stop by and ramble. Lucky you!

You know, if they told you how much of a pain in the ass it's going to be to have to pay approximately $150 and do a Defensive Driving course over the internet to get you out of the ticket, that would probably be a more effective deterrent than just posting a speed limit sign. I've managed to make it more than halfway through the course over a few nights this week, but the end can't come fast enough.

Not to belabor the point, but this whole Defensive Driving thing is excruciating. Not only does it spout a whole bunch of useless information and crappy streaming audio/video at you for six hours (yes, there's a timer to make sure you spend the whole six hours), but the text and audio content is broken down into pages that are anywhere from 10 to 75 seconds long, and you have to click "Continue" on every page once the little timer runs down. So, for a 45 minute section, there's 60 or so pages that you have to listen and click your way through, which provide you with intelligent gems like "If your brakes fail, no matter what, DON'T PANIC." Thanks. I've learned a lot here. About the only thing I've really learned is that I need to watch out for Coppell police on motorcycles hiding on side streets in the middle of the afternoon.

Alright, I'll move on. As some of you probably already know, I'm going to be in Phoenix for the weekend to see Rocko, etc. This will be my first weekend there, as I've only connected in PHX before, and hopefully it will be a very good time. I'm managing to catch a Spring Training game for the first time on St. Patrick's Day, which should be pretty awesome. Whatever we end up doing with the rest of the weekend, which will hopefully involve wearing green and being drunk, I am sure that it will be enjoyable. It will also be very nice to get a day off on Monday and have a short week at work. Some of the reason for mentioning this is that you shouldn't expect to hear from me again until probably Monday night, unless it's to post more Mario Lemieux man love.

News and Notes:

1. No rest for the weary, so to speak, once I get back from Phoenix. bterfly16 will be in town the following weekend, as will my friends from New Mexico. There could perhaps be a slumber party at Casa del Giles Friday night (3/23). Nail polish will not be provided.

2. I visited an establishment in Denton last night that was hosting a night where they played soft rock exclusively, featuring $2 tequila sunrises and summer breeze, etc.; it wasn't amazing, but it certainly wasn't bad either. I could've used some more soft rock enthusiasts there, amongst the indie-rock crowd. Many props to the two co-workers I managed to drag up there on a Tuesday night. It did, however, give me the inspiration to hold a Soft Rock Party here, which has the potential to be one of the more awesome things I've ever done. Setting aside the fact that I have to tempt people to hang out with me by using free booze, just imagine watching the "Yacht Rock" series while everyone's dressed like extra's from Miami Vice with a summer breeze in their hand. How awesome would that be? This needs to happen before it becomes 100 degrees.

3. I bought a Springsteen poster from the "Born to Run: The Unseen Photos" series, the proceeds from which go to charity. It's basically one of the shots they took for the cover of "Born to Run" that didn't end up being the cover. I mention this because on the poster Clarence looks EXACTLY like a little heavier version of Morgan Freeman. I could take a picture, but it wouldn't do it justice. It's hanging on my wall, and all I can think about when I look at it is Reidy's voice going "There are seven deadly sins..."

4. Speaking of Reidy, he tipped me off to a band called Midlake, of which I had just learned when I heard from him. That was a coincidence that was somewhat freaky, even more freaky when you consider that they're from Denton, which is 15 min. away from here. Anyway, their album "The Trials of Van Occupanther" is amazing. It's like 70s folk rock (Neil Young-ish), with crazy harmonies and a lead singer that reminds me of Thom Yorke. Seriously, most of you may not like it, but it's freaking genius. At least go check it out on iTunes.

5. I've already jumped on the 2007 Pittsburgh Pirates bandwagon, which happens every year around this time, and by May I'm ready to send death threats to Dave Littlefield. At least I don't feel dirty thinking that the team improved in the off-season, while St. Louis and the Astros got worse, the Cubs got better, and the Reds and Brewers pretty much held steady. This is all by way of saying that there's an MLB preview coming your way in the next 10-15 days. Get pumped.

6. I know updates with actual content about my life have been sparse lately, outside of the dissertation I wrote a couple weeks ago after I got popped for that ticket. I don't know what to tell you other than getting through the day is hard a lot of the time, for various reasons. I could wear that theme out pretty easily, so I've backed off the updating. Normally I'd make a joke like "at least there's booze," but that just sounds lame at this point. I'll update more when I have better things to talk about.

On that note, I'm going to try and get some sleep before I have to be at work in six hours. Enjoy your weekend.

"I used to sit and watch the pouring rain; I used to wish to be back home again..."

( It was a bad day. Bitching and crappy psychological self-analysis behind the cut. )

Song: Mona Lisa Artist: Guster Album: Parachute

"Life is short, in spite of your plans,
So tell the girls they're pretty while you can.
'Cause one day they're gone, and all you've got left,
Some empty bottles and an old country song.

'Cause this big old river, will kill us in time.
'Till then we'll drink its weight,
In cheap beer and wine.

We can drink just as fast,
As the river is strong.
And we'll drink 'till we're gone..."

We still miss you, Mike. Rest in peace.


Song: Drink 'Till We're Gone Artist: Lucero Album: Lucero

My Girlfriend Has Huge Balls.

Now give her some money.

As a son and grandson of cancer survivors, I implore you to donate to a very worthy cause. Any help you can offer will be greatly appreciated.

Song: Window Artist: Guster Album: Parachute

Despite what Loverboy may have told you, there are some of us that are not working for the weekend, and this weekend in particular.

As I've already mentioned in this space, I'm heading to Oklahoma tomorrow to spend the weekend with friends burying our friend Mike. Believe me, though my mood may have steadied since Sunday with respect to thoughts of mortality, I do not feel like I am at all ready to do this. With it being more than a week in between Mike's passing and his funeral, you could say that we've all had some time to sort out a lot of what was tearing us apart inside, and that's probably true. However, I'm sure none of us are ready to see Mike in a casket and actually go through the experience of him really being gone and having to say the goodbyes we never got a chance to say. Of course this is all something no one can possibly prepare for, no matter how many times we've done it before.

So, it's going to be a grand weekend, I'm sure. Unfortunately for me, Lorelai will be staying here in Dallas, but I'll have many of my friends around to stave off the despair. Just keep Mike's family in your thoughts; I'm sure this experience has been pretty horrible for all of them.

Since I'm super-cool, I got an unemployment check in the mail today, my first one. It's for next-to-nothing, thanks to the fact that the amount I get is based on the amount I earned between 6/01/04-6/31/05, when I was only working part-time at Best Buy. It is something, though, and it's better to have money coming in and not just going out. What's not coming in, and hasn't been for a while now are the two checks I'm owed at my former place of employment. I'm really sick of having to hound people every day to get money I should've received weeks ago, but hey, that's how my life works these days. I got word, after I sent another email, that my last paycheck had arrived but not my gas reimbursement check. So, though I have not yet decided, I may go down there tomorrow and retrieve it, and if I'm lucky, my gas check.

So I could read something on the way to Oklahoma (kidding), I went to Half-Price Books and was lucky enough to get a copy of the first Harry Potter book. Lorelai is probably more excited than I will ever be, but hey, the things we do for love.

Speaking of the things we do for love, we're ten short days away from what will most assuredly be the best Giles birthday ever. I think it's fair to say that around the birthday on which I become a quarter of a century old, I'm deep in the throes of my quarter-life crisis. Welcome to the real world. Please contact me if you need my address to send me all the wonderful gifts you've been purchasing. Of course, cash and checks are always good too.

Alright, I'm going to wrap this up and knock out some Harry Potter before fleeing the cold and getting in bed. Everyone have a good weekend, because mine is going to be a struggle.

Having to leave the table at dinner with your girlfriend's dad and step-family because you're about to break down does not make for an easy night.

To anyone not on my friends list, the preceding statement does not make sense, and for that I'm sorry. Yesterday I found out one of my good friends from Oklahoma died from internal injuries suffered in a car crash on Thanksgiving morning. This was not long after I learned my mom had crashed her car the day before (she's fine, car's in the shop), which also does not make for an easy weekend. Last night around 3am I woke Lorelai up because everything I had been trying to manage throughout the day, and all the things I tried to get out by writing last night came out in a terrible fury of fear, sadness, and hysterics. Needless to say, it hasn't been an easy couple of days, but much easier I'm sure than the holdiay Mike's family has had to endure.

I will be in Oklahoma City for Friday and at least part of Saturday to attend the funeral. If any of you reading this happened to know Mike and hadn't found out yet, I'm really sorry you had to hear it from me over the internet.

The circumstances of Mike's death are not what you would think, and I won't get too into them here for the sake of not freaking everyone out as much as I've been freaked out. Basically, he was involved in an accident, and though he had no external injuries, the accident had caused a laceration of his liver, and throughout the process of going to the hospital and waiting for results, he was bleeding to death internally. By the time they discovered the problem and tried to save him, it was too late.

My biggest concern is the typical problem we deal with when someone close to us dies, that is, we are again reminded that at any second our time may be up. We pretty much never know when, where, or how. Though I'm significantly bothered by that existential problem, the more troubling thought is that he did everything he was supposed to do to avoid dying. Though the police have not released a report, it appears the accident was not Mike's fault. Though he had no obvious external injuries, which leads me to believe he was wearing his seat belt, he still went to the hospital to get checked out. He probably felt uncomfortable, but certainly he didn't think he had any injury significant enough to cause his death. He did everything you are supposed to do if you're in an accident, he was conscious, responsive, and alert. He joked with his family and downplayed what happened. He did everything he was supposed to do, and he's dead. That's something that will keep me up at night.

On Halloween, I crashed my car into the side of a bridge. Three days ago, my mom's car slid in the snow and drove into and over an exit sign. In both our cases, we weren't going fast enough or hit hard enough that our airbags deployed. I can't speak for my mom, but in my case, a few hours after it happened, I felt a little soreness on the right side of my ribcage different from the random abdomen pains I'd been having the week previous. Not having health insurance, and not thinking it was anything of note, I didn't go to the doctor. Though my mom has health insurance, it would take a team of oxen to get her to the doctor for something as minor as what I felt. Another thing keeping me up last night and right now is the thought that something could happen to me or someone I care about, and we would avoid going to the doctor because of the hassle, while the problem inside us got worse and worse, eventually killing us.

The night before my car accident on Grey's Anatomy there was a big train wreck, and a bunch of people were brought into the hospital. One of the doctors was treating a woman who had various external injuries, and they had to do some X-Rays to see if she had any broken ribs, which she did. The whole time this is going on, her friend who was with her on the train is sitting there bitching about the wait and talking on the phone. The doctor is clearly annoyed by her and attempts to ignore her. Near the end of the episode, the friend appears to be sleeping, and the doctor comes back to let the woman know she has a broken rib. She yells to her friend, who doesn't respond, so she shakes her, and the fried falls over on the floor dead, from what we learn are internal injuries sustained in the train wreck.

That freaked me out because that week previous I'd been having random weird abdominal pain, and did not want to go to the doctor because I didn't have a way to pay for it. I (somewhat irrationally, thanks to TV) got scared to go to sleep, afraid I wouldn't wake up. Of course, the next day I got in a car wreck, later felt some pain, and just waited for it and my strange abdomen pain to go away since I couldn't go to the doctor, and they both did. (In fairness, in a couple days I would add "no job" to "no car", so paying a doctor's bill had become more than an inconvenience.)

Sheer fairness should dictate that it should be me in big trouble and not Mike. Mike did exactly what he was supposed to do: he went to the hospital; he followed the protocol. Now he's gone.

If anyone knows how the hell to not be bothered by that thought, please let me know.

Happy Birthday wishes go out to the following:

Joe "The Dack Attack" Dackiewicz, the former long-standing official roommate.
Vince Stepanik
Jay Styperk

And of course,

Mario Lemieux.


Happy birthday to all, and to all a good night.


GO PENS!

Song: Afternoon Delight Artist: Will Ferrell Album: Anchorman: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

Happy Birthday wishes go out to one P.C. Manning (The P.C. stands for "Politically Correct"), one of our nearest and dearest who turns a whopping 25, or a quarter of a century, today. Word is that he's celebrating in SoCal with Will Ferrell, Vince Vaughn and lots of strippers. That's just what I heard.

Happy Birthday, young Manning. Many happy returns.

Song: Birthday Artist: The Beatles Album: The White Album

Those of you from Saint Charles who read this, if you had not already heard, our classmate Anson Chan died last week while swimming at Salt Fork Lake with his family.

I didn't hear until I got a letter from school this afternoon, so I don't really know any more details than what the letter and the internet provided me. Apparently the funeral was on Friday at Holy Spirit on the East Side.

I'm sure if anyone wants to send flowers or something, you can get an address from school.

In what will prove to be another awesome July, I just found out that one of my best friends from school, someone who I really care a lot about and who helped me through a lot of rough times, is having serious brain surgery this weekend. For those of you who know Jill, and even those of you who don't, please keep her in your thoughts and prayers (if applicable) this weekend. Thanks.