Those mornings during Christmas break when the house was quiet, I'd sleep in, and then wake up and put on Hanson's "Snowed In"...

It feels like winter here, thus creating some sort of teasing nostalgia. Nostalgia that I can't quite pin down, like when someone walks by and you smell their perfume, but you can't figure out why you know that smell.. if only they would walk by again, you might have a chance to settle yourself. That's how it is here. It started on the drive home-- looking out the windshield, it's like I could TELL that the weather was cool, but how? The shadows? The brownish grass and trees? The fact that the AC in my car wasn't kicked up all the way? Either way... it was cool outside, and my body knew it, and it began pushing me toward memories-- but which memories? Memories of Eunice High and the cool air in the later season of football games? Memories of LSMSA, when the weather was nice enough for everyone to sit outside in the courtyard? (Which led directly, of course, to-- memories of Taylor Coleman?) Memories of last year with Emily? Or did they go even further back, when I'd skip school in junior high, sleep in, finally get out of bed around noon, and wander over to the computer to talk to Joey, whose school vacations were different than ours? The linoleum was always cool to my feet those days... Or perhaps these memories were not geared towards the fall at all, as I always neglect the fact that October can in fact feel the same as late March... Being home now, the drive over, there is still something sweetly nostalgic on my body, but it remains beyond my grasp still. The tile is cool to the touch, there is no sunlight streaming through the window, Dad comes home from riding his motorcycle wearing a jacket... telltale signs of fall turning to winter (but not before another heat spell, as we should all predict in Louisiana).....................I don't know. I don't know what my body is looking for. Trying to find it, though, is exhausting, and frankly, rather ridiculous, as sometimes I catch a scent of who-knows-what and sniff the air ridiculously and deeply for five minutes straight, like some sort of starving dog. So I give up; I'm letting it go. At the very least, the atmosphere is perfect for lingering thoughts of Emily... Maybe now the cool air and half-scents will always remind me of her, just as twisting an Oreo will forever be accompanied with "I wish she would love me forever".

He speaks.

So I'm not home anymore, but a few nights ago, Mom spotted my Wal-Mart-bag-Taco-Bell-cup friend. She was at Sonic, waiting, with her window rolled down. He walked by, and said hello, and she said hello in return, and he kept walking. Two Wal Mart bags, one containing his Taco Bell cup, one containing....?

And me and my friends are gonna move to Canada, where we'll die of old age.

Or something like that.

Rhenquist died this weekend, which leaves not only a second Supreme Court opening, but Chief Justice at that. I saw a headline that suggested that Bush wants Roberts in that spot. I also read a new story that a Senator suggested that Sandy Baby stay on for another year in Rhenquist's spot, for the sake of stability and consistency while the first position is filled. I don't know if he intended it this way, but I interpreted that to say, "Have Sandra stay on, we'll fiddle around with this Roberts nomination, then take an equally long time for a CJ nomination, and by that time it might just be time for the next presidential election, and if a Democrat wins, s/he'll get to make the decision, and the Court won't be super conservative." All fine and dandy... but what if it's Jeb '08?

I think people fail to realize that it won't just be a conservative court while Bush is in office... This crap will last for decades. Granted, the other justices are all getting old enough to retire as well, but if it IS a red victory in 2008, we're looking at something really serious. And if a Democrat takes office in '08, we're still looking at the possibility that most if not all of the justices will stay on until another Republican is in office so that they know they'll be replaced with conservatives.

I am terrified. Really. I mean it.

Another Sighting

I spotted him again a few nights ago. Midnight-thirtyish, Wal Mart. He walked in carrying two bags, no Taco Bell cup. After spending a few minutes in the store, I walked out and as I neared the doors, I saw him inside, leaning over a shopping cart that contained his cup.

A New Step Towards McDonaldization

Driving into Eunice today I saw a billboard for McDonald's, proudly proclaiming, "Wireless Internet Available!" It blows my mind that people really think this is what we need.

Hey Mister Man

There is a man in Eunice. He stands very still, holding what appears to be a Wal-Mart bag and a large drink, most often a Taco Bell cup.

First sighting: July 5. Location: Taco Bell. We had just returned home from Austin, and Curt wanted to grab dinner before hitting the road. We ate in that night instead of drive through, and the man was sitting alone, not eating, with his bag and his drink.

Second sighting: Earlier this week. Location: Dairy Queen. Dana and I pulled up for a MooLatte, and there he was, standing outside, his usual possessions in hand.

Third sighting: Last night. Location: 3rd Street and Laurel intersection. Mom, Andre, and I spotted him, and I told them how I always see him. It was beginning to creep me out.

Fourth and final sighting: Tonight, midnight. Location: Taco Bell. I finished ordering and pulled up, not quite to the window. He stood directly outside my window, behind the building, cup and bag in hand.

Is he looking for money? Is he looking for a ride? Is he performing a social experiment, seeing how many people will avoid eye contact? Most importantly... what's in the bag?

Realism

I'm a realist. At least I try to be, though my reality is sometimes hazy. But I digress. I just theorized that maybe human life is as real as it gets, and if we can make everything imitate it, then everything is real. Whoa. Like, ok. A fetus. In its first few months, it grows more rapidly than it ever will again. Then when the baby is born, you've got to be really careful, really tender, pay a lot of attention to it. It gets older, you've got to fuss at it. It becomes a teenager, you've got to yell at it. But you also get to rough it up, you know, play football and things like that. But you still love it because it's something you have created and fostered. And like, compare all of that to a relationship. In the beginning you exert so much energy, saying the right things, being really careful, etc. Then in the middle you do the fighting, you know, the yelling. You might even neglect it, because you feel like it can take care of itself. And it may get roughed up, but you still love it, because it's yours, you've worked for it, it's special. And, I don't know, maybe that's as real as it gets.

Equality Ride

I own it, SUCKA.

Zero Hour

I completed my application for the Equality Ride. www.equalityride.com All that's left is my phone interview, which is supposed to take place in the next few days. For any of you not in the know (not that there are many of you reading this anyway), the ER is a bus trip across the country, 25-30 selected people spending one week each at seven schools, advocating against the schools' discriminatory policies for gays and lesbians. Would take time out of my school career, but I consider it way way way more than worth it. My parents are not for it.

Some thoughts on my mind lately (personal ones aside): the school system. moral responsibility. instilling UN ambassadors while Congress is on break. how to deal with internal problems in a political group that is not doing as much good as bad. capitalism.

New shirts to be made: "bitter," to be worn both alone as a personal assesment of character and with my brother's future "sweet" shirt, and "negative," to be worn both as a personal assesment of character and my to express my disagreement.

Motto of the week: the world has rendered me wrothful.

I will always type "my" where I mean to type "me" and vice versa.