Sail On, Sail On

So I’m off.

There is a stirring within my heart that makes me want to write everything that has been going on in my mind, but, right now, I will choose to ignore it.

Instead, I will narrate the mundane events that interrupted my sleep.

At around 3 a.m., I hear my dog Angel whining continuously. Now, I really think that he was psychologically traumatized when he was a puppy, mostly by the fact that he was probably separated from his mother at a too-early age, but also because my sister, who was his nominal caretaker, didn’t do much care-taking. So I figure he is just expressing his emotionally needy self. Except now I can’t sleep.

At around 3:15 a.m., I head downstairs to see what his problem is, and I find him trapped behind some 5-gallon bottles of water, the air conditioning unit, and two walls. God knows how he got there, and if he got there, I don’t know why he couldn’t get himself out. But as soon as I pulled aside the 5-gallon bottles, he made a beeline for the inside of the house and refused to go back outside.

After a few minutes cajoling and threatening, I gave up, and let him come upstairs. I called upon my brother to see if he could help me get the dog out of the house, but he was half-comatose, and Angel proceeded to jump onto his bed. Eventually we convinced the dog to come with me, and I fell asleep in the guest bedroom.

I set my alarm for 5 a.m. this morning, because I am ultra-paranoid about getting my shit packed, and for some reason, the dog was quite content with going outside. Call of nature, no doubt.

What a ridiculous animal.

But so endeth my little interlude in Southern California. I’m pretty apprehensive about going back to Chicago and starting the next school year, but I figure I have no choice but to get over it. I just need to really get my ass in gear.

To Live and Die in Chicago

So now that I’m here, I actually feel a lot better about it. I’m still a little anxious about getting my shit taken care of, but the restless craziness in my soul has calmed down a bit. The advantage of thousands of miles distance, I suppose.

What is it about the summer that has always (even before I learned of N’s hatred of summer) made me anti-social?

I did manage to finish Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix during my eight hour sojourn (including a transfer in Houston.) I found one of the subplots interesting only in so much with regards to its mundanity and applicability to the lives of teenagers (and apparently grown-men who went to Catholic all-boys high schools.) I will leave it at that, but yeah, this is a children’s book, so I don’t mean to imply anything perverse.

My mind is still scattered, though. I think it’s time to give up trying to make sense for today.

Flashback

But the 4th of July was pretty OK, concentrating on simple pleasures. Like getting trashed and blowing things up. As usual (last year being the most recent anomaly), I spent most of the day at my uncle’s house in Harbor City. We brought a bottle of Courvoisier VS, which thoroughly consumed. Me and my brother also drove to nearby Carson and picked up a $40 package of fireworks entitled “The Night Thriller” which has been thus far the most impressive package of non-airborn fireworks that we have personally exploded. (Because nothing will probably ever top the 100 bottle rockets that we bought for $10 in Laoag for New Years 1999)

Driving on the 110 was also an adventure, particularly on the elevated carpool lane, since everyone seemed to be shooting things up into the air. It was quite an impressive show.

Thanks to the Courvoisier and to the Stoli that one of my uncles brought, I didn’t really have to think about how this country is going to shit because of the neo-cons. But enough politics.

mahiwaga

I'm not really all that mysterious

Sail On, Sail On

To Live and Die in Chicago

Flashback