Outta town, blowin' up

Yeah, things done changed.

August, with a bullet. It's been a long time since I've written anything on the internet or elsewhere-- I guess because I've been working so much and pausing so little, a gesture saved for hesitance, because it isn't even that I haven't anything to say. So without further ado, let's recap my summer and cast a wary eye forward, remembering always the peripheral.

August, like the stick on the pink of my neck, I find myself a little rearranged. For better or for worse-- pragmatism alludes me sometimes. I am on the closing action of a crush, one that I let fold and dissipate into the past tense like too many others, inaction again my worst enemy. Meanwhile, I dawdle unnecessarily between the introduction and rising action of my newfound interest in fitness. And now I digress...

I find it interesting and strange and sometimes frightening how people grow and change at different speeds, bloom at different times and such. I'm gradually coming to the conclusion that I bloom late-- I tend to get into things, experience things, long after others have. Like my phases were put on standby by my youth and are only now rushing to catch up and prepare me for adulthood. If that's true, and I'll be damed if I know whether it is or not, maybe it's because we were always moving every 18 months or so between my second and seventh birthday. Maybe some reset button was hit every time I had to pack up and make new friends, get used to a new school, and shit like that. I'm young for my grade to begin with-- I think it's possible that my fast cars, fast women and fitness phase(s?) was(were?) put on hold, so I was still chillin' in a bean bag chair while everybody else was buying tubs of powdered whey and busting their asses for varsity letters. Of course, this could just be nonsense.

...but I digress. My listening habits of the summer have deviated strongly from the moody indie rock staples I've come to love lately, but I'm enjoying the more panoptic view of music. If I had a last.fm it would reveal that I've been listening to more 90's hip hop than anything else-- Wu-Tang Clan and all their solo efforts, Biggie, A Tribe Called Quest, Dre, and Outkast's criminally under appreciated Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik. Mix that in with The Raconteurs, Mother Hips, Gorillaz and Protest the Hero (a sick Canadian metal band) and you've got my summer soundtrack. As I type I'm listening to Tool-- happy to try to shed the pretense I've carried the past few years and enjoy music for what it is.

I leave for Puerto Rico Wednesday at like 3am to teach leadership and ceremonial performance. Hooray?

August, with the cinnamon tingle of September between ghost jacaranda breezes. I'm ready to go back to school. That is, I'm ready to live with three other guys and get into trouble and not have to worry about sneaking up the stairs so as not to arouse suspicion. That is, I'm ready to have some relatively carefree fun again. Finally. Some fresh air. I don't know what's to come this semester but I know I'm gonna hit it hard-- put as much of myself as I can into whatever it is I do and live it up. Live and breathe the dream. Rock me baby.

And now a question for the masses. At the end of this summer do I buy a Gibson Les Paul or a Playstation 3? Comment your vote.

Bomb the Blogosphere
and Happy August,
Mike