Chattin with Jesse

Usual Dream

In half-asleep state, I notice people walking down the hallway.  I can see their feet through the crack beneath the door to my room…person after person after person, a long line of people filing down the hallway to Ella's room. It's like 3:30 in the morning.  The door to my room opens and I realize Scott must be back.  Scott and Adrian come into my room and convince me to get out of bed to come to the party, which is in Ella's room down the hall, which I had never been told was happening.  It's happening in honor of Scott returning, and he literally just got back.  Alright.  Put on a polo shirt and go to her room to socialize.  Kate Lockhart from high school is there but doesn't remember who I am, even though she's been dating a kid who was a friend of mine since we were all in high school.  Whatever, she's annoying anyways.  Another girl asks me for a can opener because she wants to make beans.  I go to the kitchen, which is a super-nice kitchen, and start looking.  Alex Neher, who also lives in this apartment with Ella and me, is chilling there.  I start talking to him about how everyone's been gone and how I've been all alone at the apartment, and how I'm glad everyone's back.  I discover another cool cutting board feature in our kitchen.  Ella comes in and I remember I'm looking for the can opener, but she says it's probably a bad idea for drunk people to be cooking over an oven, and I realize that that's probably smart, and I don't want to look for this dumb can opener anyways because I have no idea where it is. 

Yada yada yada, I'm at a beach in the early morning, got here before the crowd, which means that I can watch porn here.  Open up my computer and start watching some porn.  The chick isn't doing it for me, and maybe I shouldn't jerk off on this popular beach in Los Angeles, so I put it away and take the sideways elevator back to a different stop on the third floor.  I realize the elevator is about to stop again on the third floor before my stop, with my floor-3 button still lit up from being pressed.  This is gonna be embarrassing--it's bad enough to take the elevator down a single floor, but I'm not even going up or down, I'm just going to a different spot on the same floor.  When the doors open, I pretend like I just came up and get out of the elevator.  I cut through the carpeted preschool/dormitory common room-type area back to my apartment.

That time when you realize...

You have been saying to yourself "Wow, I should really trim my pubes today" for a whole month now.

Probably not going to do it until the road trip. Fuck it, nobody is looking down there anyways.

P.S: just noticed that this was the 399th blog. who is going to get 400? Ohh nevermind, it's 367 published and then some drafts, so we are from it.

New Moon

Adventure Park Observations

As many of you already know, I'm working at a ropes course this summer and it's a great temporary job even though I'm not getting enough hours. I had never experienced the stereotypical summer job so often seen in movies until now. Jobs like lifeguarding, camp counseling, refereeing(?), carnival staffing, taco belling all have a laid back, community feel to them that I wasn't sure was real until I became a monitor at this park. I don't know if it's the temporary nature of the job, the fact that it's summer, or the ridiculousness of it all that warrants co-workers to give just a bit less of a fuck than they would at a normal job. For example, the last two days i have worked from 2pm til 8pm and not one person came to the park to climb during that time. What the fuck do we do? Play wiffle ball of course and then a little bit of home run derby. Yesterday we didn't have the bat or the ball so a bunch of people made some awesome looking sticks/staffs/swords while we talked about Black Dynamite. Time went a little bit slow but it was all very enjoyable. My manager also fucked me with his laid-blackness laid-backness cause he took forever to train me and put me into the schedule and now that I'm on it, he does it only three days in advance. But whatever, it's the summer, I'm working out, I'm chillin (wish I had you guys nearby), I'm playing basketball and soccer, I'm watching great docs on Netflix and I'm preparing for a road trip. Can't knock on that. And that seems to be the vibe with most of the people I work with.

Now on to some people I have seen at the park:

-The YOLO-er: This fucking kid (prob 7-9 yrs. old), was bitching about getting past this obstacle which was basically a swing across two platforms. It took nearly 10 mins to get him to go across and then he yells "YOLO! YOLO!! YOLO!!!" what the fuck is wrong with this new generation? Hey kid, you swung across two platforms with nothing to worry about, how about you do that without a harness and fall to your death so then I can yell "YOLO!"

-The Pisser: Felt really bad for this 7 year old who got so scared he pissed his pants. Tried to kinda hide it but when there is a dark spot the size rhode island on your shorts, one hand covering your crotch is not going to do it. (I really did feel awful for the kid).

-The Switcher: I have seen many kids do this, one minute they are so excited to go zip-lining and try this whole thing out, the next they are yelling out "staff" to be rescued and be brought down at once. Don't know why it happens but it does, I'm just going to blame the parents.

Alright this is it for now, I'm off to bed to wake up tomorrow and know that I'm one day closer to being in LA and seeing most of you!

shit blog 07

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, and as such I have not yet alerted my boss to the pile of dog shit lying in the corner of her bathroom.  As long as nobody knows about it, it's not hurting anyone, right? Doesn't smell or anything. I even stepped on it yesterday morning and none of it stuck to my shoe, just held its form.  I think I'll give it a few more days before I feel obligated to say something.

Unusual Dream

I’ve noticed the blog has been pretty vacant lately. It’s my first real day off in Atlanta and I decided I’d start by telling y’all about this dream I had about a week ago.

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There is this traveler. He wanted to travel through time to meet the leaders of the past but time isn’t simply forward or backwards; it moves left to right, up and down and spins about like a swing dancer. So he found himself in a well kept black Oldsmobile driving through the neighborhoods of Chicago. The year was the same. Two men accompanied him. He told them he was a reporter. One, a black man in his forties with sharp alert eyes, drove quietly. The other was a much older man whom he sat next to. That man, distinguished and charismatic, was an eighty-year-old Malcolm X. As they drove, Malcolm told the traveler of his work. The programs he put into place in the very communities they drove past. The traveler nodded and took notes. He asked of the other communities around the US he had touched, the last forty years of work and how he felt about the impact he has had throughout his life. Malcolm smiled wide, he took pride in all he had been able to accomplish, never forgetting to pause and acknowledge the breath of issues still yet to overcome. Malcolm mused, looking out at the building he saw the community he still dreams of creating. As the interview came to an end, the car pulled over and the three gentlemen got out. The traveler thanked the driver first, and then walked over to Malcolm. As the traveler’s hand touched the brilliant old man’s for the first time an incredible sight came over Malcolm. He saw fifty years in the traveler’s past, to his last speech and the world that grew from that day, to him much like roots growing darker as they move away from a plant. The traveler watched as this wave of impossible time flowed over Malcolm bringing the two to a greater understanding than their hour of conversation ever could. And as the strange light left Malcolm’s eyes he looked to the traveler and said, “that was really quite beautiful”. Gesturing his hand turning over and back again he simply said, “onto the page and off of the page and onto the page again”.

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I don’t usual dream that Malcolm X is alive.