and every hour that goes by is another i dont write in this blog.

its getting ridiculous, everything's piling up.

its sunday evening. late at night. I'm smoking a cigarette and drinking a bottle of beer. heres the score:

i got a final due on wednesday and another final due the tuesday after that. id tell you what the finals were but i dont think you'd care. i mean, whatever, right? anyway, last night i took my girlfriend out for a nice birthday dinner. it tasted good and cost a bunch. (by telling you this, I'm trying to impart the pressures from which said birthday dinner set upon me the previous days, so that you get a clear picture of what my hours look like.) tomorrow i have to begin the final that is due wednesday. and i have to prepare to write the final that is due the following tuesday, because you see, on thursday I'm getting on a plane and jetting off to hawaii.

if you were confused, yes. i just told you i am going to hawaii on thursday. that was not "metaphorical." those words were not just the ramblings of a man drunk on hope and escape. i am really getting on a plane at six o'clock, thursday morning, and flying to hawaii, where i will stay until new years eve. i will get lots of sun. surf lots of waves. have lots of uncomfortable moments. and, in between sand, six packs, and sort of surly half remarks, meet my girlfriends dad.

oh, and just in case you where keeping track, i will also write a paper for my following tuesday final and email it to my professor, begging for mercy.

and I'm not going to be there on new years eve, I'm actually taking a red eye flight back on the 30th. (she's going to stay another week and spend time with her family) this means that i will arrive in new york in the afternoon of new years eve. and that night i have to DJ.

yup. i get no sleep on the plane and the day i get back i have to prepare for a gig that night. not that I'm complaining, but even typing that sentence exhausted me.

but in between i get to sit on the beach and graze. i am told there will be hiking and bike riding and some jumping off of waterfalls and some snorkling in a cove, plus a booze cruise and a beautiful sunset and the freshest fish id ever taste. i am looking forward to it all. i need a vacation. jesus christ.

oh, and i suppose i will brag because were all strangers in an empty space and if a tree falls in the woods and all that - i got a really good evaluation on the memoirs i was writing. the ones that took me away for so long. so i guess it was all worth it. whatever "all" is, anyway.

brb

box seat balling

its getting cold. last night it was twenty five degrees. it was windy and when you walked the chill bit into the skin on your face and it would be a sharp hurt at eleven degrees. fucking wind chill factor. we didnt really have that in california.

earlier in the day though, i was at the Giants game. and the kicker was -- get this -- i was in the box seats. so even though the Giants lost to the Eagles and everyone left the stadium in the middle of the forth quarter (in big waves of blue and red crawling toward the exits) i had a brilliant time and i stayed until the final second ticked off. actually, most people in the box seats did. being in the box seats was the meat of the experience. the final score was just a couple of numbers.

im not sure how much box seats tickets cost. L-crafty got them for free from one of her clients. im sure they are a most wonderfully extravagant penny. enclosed room over looking the field. all the free drinks and food you can eat. plus three flat screen tv's so you can watch highlights or even another game if you feel like. it was deluxe.

first lets understand the most important element, the free drinks. when we entered the room we were greeted by an older gentleman with a strange limp wearing a formal black and white suit and leaning on a cane. he pointed out the closet where we could hang our coats, and with a casual glance of his eyes, gave us a quick tour of the room we immediately gave began calling, "The Lounge Area." this rather cordial man with the limp would, for the rest of our stay, be not only our host, but our bartender as well. lucky for us. he mixed a mean bloody mary and, judging from the flush cheeks of some of our fellow box-seaters, poured a heavy shot of scotch. all the liquor was mid-shelf quality. there was a small fridge filled with cans of domestic lager. no one made the man with the limp bend down to get their beer though.

then there was the food. there was a big bowl of antipasta and a smaller bowl of party mix. there were five hot foods to choose from. all football classics. they were in big, deep dishes kept warm from a heating mechanism below. one was filled with hotdogs and chili. one was filled with buffalo wings. one was filled with fried chicken and biscuits. one was filled with burgers. the last one was filled with philly cheese steak sandwiches. it was crazy. there was also a platter with wedges of cold turkey sandwich. and bowls of chips with dips on the side. i tried almost everything, but not the burgers and chicken. they looked funny.

finally there was the small, private stadium seating that dipped down from the lounge area. about ten seats total, facing a wall sized glass window looking down at the fifty yard line. looking down at the huge, roaring crowd. watching them go wild when a team got a touchdown. in a way we wished we could be down there with them, but it was too cold out there. it was much easier to watch the game from the room temperature comfort of our glass tower.

when we left i tipped the man with the limp twenty bucks and thanked him for a good time. too bad the Giants blew it, i said. he winked at me knowingly and replied, did it even matter? no sir, it didnt.