Happy Birthday, Andy.
It's very odd to look at the face of someone who used to be your friend. There are few times that I wanted to not know someone--and I dare say that I've never felt it this strongly before. Life is too short to consider liars and cheaters anything more than breathing organisms. At most, acquaintances.
I would say that I wish I had more lessons on how to be rather than how to not be, but then that would probably be a lie. On the way here, to the @office in the union, I thought about it a lot. When you consider all the shitty things people have done to either you or others, that's a pretty big indication of what not to do. Regardless, some people continually are that model of Who Not To Be. I can't imagine how much that would suck--nor could I, or will I ever, imagine what it feels like to betray, lie and screw over those who are supposedly your closest friends. (If you treat your friends that way, maybe I wouldn't want to be on your bad side.)
For the most part, it seems that you learn all those good things that people like President Bush may call "Values" as you grow up. I suppose all the lessons of Who Not To Be comes more like the mortar between the bricks.
Go Figure.
But. Beyond that, I had the best babysitting gig of my life at work the other day. Sitting alone in a room with Steven Page while he writes a song--I'll get paid for that any day of the week, thank you much.
It was the oddest experience--I didn't want to sit there cheesin', and I didn't want to sit there staring at him. All I could think about was how weird I'd feel if there were someone else in the room when I was getting my creative rock on.
All I know is that I hope he inserts a line about the girl in the basement of the bookstore.
He signed my CD: Thanks for babysitting me, Colleen! Then the most unintelligible scribble I think I have ever seen.
Christopher Paolini comes August 31. Salman Rushdie and Tom Robbins in early September (the 9th and 12th), then Billy Collins in the beginning of October.
Still, what I think is: Holy shit. Tom Robbins. !
I would say that I wish I had more lessons on how to be rather than how to not be, but then that would probably be a lie. On the way here, to the @office in the union, I thought about it a lot. When you consider all the shitty things people have done to either you or others, that's a pretty big indication of what not to do. Regardless, some people continually are that model of Who Not To Be. I can't imagine how much that would suck--nor could I, or will I ever, imagine what it feels like to betray, lie and screw over those who are supposedly your closest friends. (If you treat your friends that way, maybe I wouldn't want to be on your bad side.)
For the most part, it seems that you learn all those good things that people like President Bush may call "Values" as you grow up. I suppose all the lessons of Who Not To Be comes more like the mortar between the bricks.
Go Figure.
But. Beyond that, I had the best babysitting gig of my life at work the other day. Sitting alone in a room with Steven Page while he writes a song--I'll get paid for that any day of the week, thank you much.
It was the oddest experience--I didn't want to sit there cheesin', and I didn't want to sit there staring at him. All I could think about was how weird I'd feel if there were someone else in the room when I was getting my creative rock on.
All I know is that I hope he inserts a line about the girl in the basement of the bookstore.
He signed my CD: Thanks for babysitting me, Colleen! Then the most unintelligible scribble I think I have ever seen.
Christopher Paolini comes August 31. Salman Rushdie and Tom Robbins in early September (the 9th and 12th), then Billy Collins in the beginning of October.
Still, what I think is: Holy shit. Tom Robbins. !
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