Surfing.

I get it now.

"October and the trees are stripped bare of all they wear..."

I've got to get a pumpkin. When I was a little one, my mom used to take me and my siblings to a pumpkin patch up in Wisconsin just as October began, so we could carve out a set of eyes, a nose, and some sort of ominous smile more reminsicent of a prisoner who's gotten his teeth knocked out than a happy holiday treat. But first thing was first. Upon picking out our six pumpkins, all somehow representative of the person we were then (Larry's was mishapen but full of color; Colleen's wellrounded; Sean's a gord, whoops; mine a bright orange with spots of dirt smattered along the sides, just waiting to be wiped clean; and Tim and Kevin's, always miniature and less than ripe). The memories are clear, you see, because this part of our year was special to me. More special than dying Easter eggs on the floor of the kitchen, accidentally staining the carpet; more important than laying the Christmas presents beneath our pine; more important than all of that stuff -- because fall was here. Fall, with its crunching leaves under foot, with its array of colors that make my pale skin and auburn hair look good finally, with its soft, yet biting winds, not quite chilly enough for a hat, but perfectly content with a sweater. I still look forward to Fall more than any other time of year. Our dad would arrive home, always later than he intended, placing his keys and wallet on the antique foyer table before sneaking up behind us, reaching his large hands into the carved out tops of our creamsicle colored pumpkins, then shouting in his creepiest voice, "GUTS! Guts! Every! Where!" And our shrill undeveloped voices cried out all at once in fear, delight and excitement, "GUTS!" What's not to love about this scene? My dad once told me, after I'd asked him if he had always wanted a lot of children, that of course he did. It's like creating your own set of friends, special in a way that no other human beings can be.

"October
And the trees are stripped bare
Of all they wear
What do I care
October
And Kingdoms rise
And Kingdoms fall
But you go on...
...and on..."
-October, U2

Five Things I Love.

1. empty garbage cans
2. head massages
3. world market
4. tubby
5. burritos

things i think are lame:

1. when people say happy birfday.
2. waking up in a chilly room, dressing for a cold day, and then it being warm by 10 am.
3. people who intentionally start a bulleted list mixing numbers with letters and roman numerals, i.e. 1, b, III.
4. clicks
5.

that's it for today.

best customer.

I am Dayquil and Nyquil's best customer.

There are certain things I wished I'd kept better track of, the first of which being the amount of Day and Nyquil I've ingested, and the second being, how much cash money I've spent on both of these products.

lately.

lately i've been feeling as if i've missed or am missing out on essential life experiences. the strange thing about it, however, is that i feel like it's too late to now experience these things. part of the allure of certain experiences is the time in which they happen. for me, time has passed, and now i'm in a weird state.

i feel as though someone might know what i mean, or may relate, regardless of what that "thing" may be.