on the seventh day, he rested, and said it was good.

Sunday must be the single most depressing day of the week. I might compare the weekend to a cliff, and sunday to the breeze that blows one off, only to let him fall to his death.. or school. It seems that most every visit ends on a Sunday, that chores must be done on Sunday more than any other day, and that there's no fun to be had. And Sunday has never been one of those days, for me at least, to seem like another day. You know, sometimes you'll be really antsy in eighth period on a Thursday, feeling kind of like its Friday. But, no, Sunday is brutally honest and unrelenting. It's just a day of Dogmatic structure demanding that no one enjoy the day. 

Last night and this morning were absolutely brilliant. Friday was really great, too, for the most part. Thursday, Wednesday did me just well. It's even weirder now, five days off of school and it just seems like it was a normal weekend.

THE BLOLKES and progress around the house.

emmett, dylan, and i played some tunes together today, and it went pretty well. i think we have a good feel for music that happens, we just need to get a feel for the songs. i'm really, really excited about it. 

it's preliminary, but:

http://www.myspace.com/theblolkes

I don't think people really use myspace anymore.. oh, well.

otherwise, I'm enjoying break pretty well. I'm building a 15-foot signal tower in the backyard. it's a work in progress, but it's in progress nonetheless. i think dad and i might try to get an old satellite to put atop it. we're trying to be able to attract military jets and the like. In the mean time, I should outline some American Pageant and do that nasty take-home test. I also have two weeks to read 500 pages for Mrs. Glass, amidst exam studying. Good times. 

We're also splatter painting the kitchen floor. We're going to start the red layer Friday, and hopefully do brown on Saturday. sunday is a day of Rest.

i also really miss an individual whose name rhymes with furnace.

jackson never seemed so backhanded.

Once again, I find myself spending a late night over the American Pageant. 

It's weird how things always have this god-damned ebb and flow to them. This time last year, my academics were struggling. I was failing English and my chances of staying in the class were grim. Now, I love my teachers and am incredibly interested in my schoolwork. People I called my best friends this time last year are nearly impossible to communicate with. I'm not going to say it's not my fault either.  I guess it's near inevitable, but it's bothersome nonetheless. No one expects such schisms. No one expects a joke to only be recieved in silence. 

Still, I'm happier and more content than I've been. That's a mighty generalization, but it isn't made hastily.

No one makes a playlist and expects it to take up more than one cd. I deleted one song, though. Everything fit. That sounds nice, everything fitting. It's hard to catch a breath through the homework, incompetent counseling, software updates, two-a-week trips to charlottesville, worrying about SAT II scores, wanting rest, wasting time blogging, and wondering where the hell time went. 

Maybe it's just part of being a seventeen year old boy, but it's hard to have absolutely no hint of direction. I can list colleges to my uncle, but, in all honestly, I'm not entirely certain that I want to go to college right away. The conversation only becomes trickier when a major gets brought up. I wonder how many schools have transcendental meditation programs. 

To quote Pavement, Everytime I sit around, I find I'm shot.

Nevertheless, I'm grinning ear to ear - and I mean that.

this weekend, i caught on fire. that's all.