I miss you, blog.

I'm selling out.

RIP Blog... I won't forget what we had here.

BECAUSE WE ALL WANT WHAT'S BEST FOR MORK & MINDY HAS RELOCATED: http://www.livejournal.com/users/3rd_engine

Welcome back, come on inside my brain.



You know you’re always more than welcome.

I’ll try my best to be a gracious host.

Go on and put your feet up, we’ve got time to kill.

You know what I think is funny?

And sorry if I’m speaking out of turn.

But as I was saying before –

You know what I think is funny?

How many things feel like home.

Like the places.

Or the people.



I can believe this year is over.

Because even though it’s been good to me, it’s been long.

And quite honestly, we shouldn’t try to kid ourselves.

The ending was always in sight.

We just used our best clichés and superstitions to keep ourselves distracted.

So it goes.

I guess it’s our turn now.

It’s pretty insane to think about.

Me – a senior.

Ha.

You won’t have to worry about a thing.

We all have some pretty big-hearted dreams.

I suppose that’s what makes it worth living.

Our story is just about to end here.

And I'm incredibly lame.

And I’m incredibly humble.

And I’m incredibly nostalgic.

And as the world would have it, I might not see you again.

But I’ll paint my words with every pastel and shade in the book to remind you how grateful I am that we even had this much.

So, as for the rest of you…

Come on in.

We'll waste our time together.

We won't take ourselves seriously.

We won't even think about leaving.



We'll find comfurt in knowing that few things matter like this.

We’re always family.

Always. Always. Always.

Always.

Well, I'm making a little personal history this evening.

This goes down as the first prom that I've ever actually attended. I have my tux and everything and I'm ready to go. The only thing that has me nervous is aspects of the corsage (I have no idea how to put it on or when) and actually meeting her father, because according to her, he says I have to. I'm not nearly prepared for all the curves and twists in dialogue that my pessimism has created in my mind of the scenario of how this scene will actually play out. I'm convinced that even though my nervousness probably won't show through, I'll say plenty of stupid things before I actually take off with Sarah to go with everyone for pictures. Sarah's just going to have to wait for another prom to come around before she gets a charming and conversationally appealing date.

I look like 'The Penguin' in my tux.



Last night we played another show with the Lakeshore boys at St. James as a benefit show for ____. I'm not quite sure what, so I'll leave it to you to fill in the blank with whatever god-related beneficiary you can think of. Considering that Adam and I were both sick as dogs, the show went off pretty well. The last half was pretty weak because my voice was giving out on me, but people actually liked our set. There's no feeling like it, singing in front of a room full of strangers behind a mic, showing them what some of my best friends and I have been doing with our limited knowledge of music in the downstairs living room of a little house for over a year now. A lot of people ask me why I never publicize my band; in fact, a lot of people I know always find out a long time after I initially meet them that I'm even in a band. I suppose the answer is that I'm trying to be humble about the progress that we make. A lot of little kids start out dreaming to be famous actors or rock stars, I was just selfish enough to pursuit both and never grow out of it to this day.

After the show was over last night, I decided to go hang out at Adam's place for awhile with Rob. In addition, they both brought the girls who they're presently trying to get with, and so far, at least I know Adam was successful with his. It was pretty late, but we all just sat around in Rob's truck parked outside and just started talking for awhile. In a situation like that, I can't help but at least laugh a little to myself because it just seems like such a typical teen thing to do. I made a few cracks along the lines of gazing at the night sky, littered with stars and saying, "Do you guys ever think we're going to glow like they do?" My being-way-too-deep-for-a-teenager jokes never really go over too well, but luckily, it was so late that at that hour, even if you said anything stupid, if there was an awkward silence afterwards, someone would laugh just for that reason.

The awkward silence after telling a joke is essentially nature's way of telling you that you fail. So I've gathered.

When you're sick as hell and it's one in the morning, the combination is apparently lethal enough for you to watch your friend make-out with a girl in the back of a pickup truck as you sing the theme songs to Smart Guy and Sister Sister and talk about how the girls who played Tia and Tamara were related to the kid who played the Smart Guy. We had a bunch of cookies and muffins on a plate from the show, the cookies were given to us by the church for playing and the muffins Rob's semi-girlfriend brought. So in the darkness, as Adam was all curled up with Laura on the opposite side of the truck bed and Rob was inside the truck with Ashley either sleeping or doing god knows what, I sat by the Parkway cookies and muffins. If that doesn't sound as pathetic as it really was, you're probably not getting a good enough mental image so I insist you try a little harder.

Going to prom doesn't automatically make you cool the rest of the time after all. Who'd of thought?

Tonight I turn seventeen.

This is strange for me. Seventeen sounds like one of those unlucky numbers, like thirteen. It doesn't have any number that factors into it besides itself and the number one. I think. We all know how good at math I am, right? Cause if we don't, let me remind us all that I'm below average for my grade. That's right, friends. I'm talking the Ge-to-the-ometry.

Last afternoon I pretty much slept the entire afternoon to celebrate becoming seventeen and taking things for granted even still. I dreamt that Madonna found the wallet I just lost (this makes two in two months) and gave it back to me. Although I really don't like her music much, I totally appreciated her then. The terrible thing about dreams is that even though this would never happen, it seems like it did until I wake up. Then the cold reality behind the notion that, yes, I'm still going without a license for some time sets in. Regardless if I had myself an automobile or not, I still feel pretty naked without the little piece of plastic sitting safely and stashed under the right back pocket.

Birthdays are getting less and less cool. I remember how 'sweet' I thought the world was when I turned thirteen and could legally enter PG-13 movies. Shortly after, I realized the high majority of them really blew. Life needed a new meaning. Now that I've hit seventeen and can see R-rated movies, the world is a little sweeter, but I'm still not kidding myself. I need something better to go off here.

Because I am so cultured.

Getting fired from Chilis is first on my list of things to do now that I'm seventeen.

Today is a good day.

Has anyone noticed how nice its been here lately? If you haven't noticed, whatever the reason, I've documented this episode pretty accurately if I do say so myself with my tried and true camera phone in previous posts.

At this point, the author wishes to respond to the sharpening criticism between himself and those who call him 'queer' for taking and enjoying pictures of the Ahwatukee skyline, which encompasses his residency.

Fuck you guys.

Why is at Chilis, everytime I finish bussing a table, four tables leave at once? I think I've figured it out. No doubt, there is a ringleader behind this devastation, and for the sake of writing, we'll appoint this proclaimed ringleader Doctor Skull. He probably looks a lot like this, when not under the guise of his ridiculous humanity derived costume...



So Dr. Skull enters Chilis with his rag tag group of delinquents, probably orders something like a Skillet Sensation, because they're a pain to carry all the way to the kitchen and he can be a dick like that. So once Dr. Skull finishes his meal, he jumbles with the sugar and sweet and low packs and ensures his children spill their goddamn milkshakes all over the table. This series of events triggers half the restaurant to get up and leave, all because they are conspiring along with Dr. Skull. One can only guess what they're getting out of it, but for their sake, I sure hope it's worth it. Once returned to the outside world, Dr. Skull and cronies exchange hearty laughs and vigorous high-fives, and once satisfied, they are on their way once again to god knows where, only to return another day.

In all ways, I should be living the teenage American Dream: have a job, look ridiculously handsome and be totally awesome. All the elements are there, but I still feel a little lacking in my gut. Then again, all points considered, I only work at Chilis. As far as jobs go, I'm like the shitty floor-model at the Teenage American Dream Store. Oh, someday. Someday.

I wish high school was over. It's such a joke to me now, but nonetheless, I will make the best of what I'm handed. My plans for the future include buying big expensive grown up things, reading a whole lot, also taking a vitamin and upping my milk intake every day so maybe I get a little taller before according to modern science, I will biologically cease to grow ever again in my natural born life. So look out, world.

Oh, evening. Just look at you. When you look like this, you're too good for a Sunday.

She said yes, SHE SAID YES!

A thousand hurrahs, she said yes!!

Does anyone know how to ask a pretty girl to prom?




What I lack right now is creativeness and the motivation to obtain it. Add a dab of social awkwardness into the mix, and this is the formula for me. So by all means, if you have any expendable charisma and charm to go around, let me know how to sweep the lady off her feet. If I'm too vague right now, face it my friend. There really isn't much to tell anyway.

With that out of the way, we can get on to more pressing issues at hand...

At this point, the author wishes to respond to the sharpening situation between himself and Rubios, the Baja Mexican eatery establishment.

Alright, guys. Seriously. Why is it so hard to interpret the name 'Ty'? Everytime I walk in, order my food and give my name, my receipt always comes back to me with some stupid name at the top, completely different from what I originally said in the first place. You could avoid this problem altogether if you'd just give people numbers instead of taking their names, but whatever you want. It's your business, not my own. All I know, is that generally when my receipt comes out as 'Todd', I subconsciously feel as though my real name, 'Ty', is just not good enough for you. Additionally, the other day, when my receipt came back as 'Tail', I just felt like an idiot. The guy taking my order just brought my food out to me instead of saying my name over the speaker, assuming that he must be doing me a favor and sparing me the embarassment of being addressed by my shitty name of 'Tail'.

What kind of things would Tail be doing on prom night?

I've narrowed it down to either spending hours looking for a cool ringtone for his phone or talking to his cat about how he was too good to go to prom anyway. Together, Tail and his feline counterpart could reach new leagues of being pathetic.

I just don't want to be Tail.

Infact, you might even say that I strive to be the anti-Tail.

What do I get out of this? I don't know. I suppose this is yet to be determined. It'll be something good though. Something real good. Whatever's left I'll leave for you.

I’m going to be philosophical for a little here.

For those of you sick of my characteristically over-dramatic occasional writing style, this entry probably isn’t for you. It won’t be entirely too long though, so lighten up.

Tips for enjoying this entry: Listen to something lame as hell. Some really lame and sad song. A lot of my writing is like that. Now, without further ado...

Every day is another chance.



What do I mean by that? Draw your own conclusion. A lot of important things can be drawn from that statement alone. Whether you interpret the same thing that I’m thinking doesn’t really matter. But the fact alone is that the statement above is absolutely true. It really is. So by knowing this, it’s entirely up to you how you act upon this.

I think what honestly sparked this topic for a post was the fact that we’re now down to the last quarter for the school year. I remember last year when about this time I was starting to get nostalgic as hell about the seniors that’d be leaving after the year was really over. I remembered how I first met ‘the four’ when they would come over to my house to cook eggs and thought I was a completely hopeless douche bag, and I felt the same towards them. I remembered Matt throwing up on Alecia, Jack teaching me how to play Stay Together For The Kids and taking my first shot all in the same night over here. I remembered, out of the few times we’d ever talked, Brady taught me how to ‘properly’ smoke a cigar at a Gentlemen’s Night. The point I’m trying to make here is that these people had quite a bit to do with me growing up, for good reasons and a few bad reasons, and I’m incredibly grateful for that.

It’s not that I’m going to hold any of these aforementioned graduating kids back from leaving, or could for that matter, but I just want to make a personal note that these kids are a huge part of my world. All this talk of who’ll be rooming with who at UofA or NYU and so on and so forth, it has me in a peculiar state of mind. I feel like I should be leaving with you kids, like I should be going with you. To me, it seems only natural, even though I have another year here. And now I’m remembering the little things. What you’ve done for me, well, I hope I’ve done for you, and I think I’ll always feel I owe you more. It’s only nearly April and already I have a heavy heart. May is coming on strong.

I wouldn’t ever forget the way it makes me feel.

I miss her.

And I don't even want to so much as think about goodbyes.

I want to write something good tonight.

I'm not sure what effect I'm really going for, but essentially, I just want you to read it and then through little bits and phrases without my post, you'll think, 'man, I miss this kid'. But I'm still not sure how to achieve this, so instead, it's pretty likely that I'll just fold my cards and hope it'll happen another night. Chilis has basically been my detachment from the world, and this blog and my audience is my perfect outlet to complain with. Why? Because people love to hear me bitch about anything. There's something through what I say that's just so eloquent and fervent that I can rally support around any taboo subject I choose to complain about. Like Jesus was black. Like mayonnaise is delicious. Like Mr. Clean is totally straight if you read between the lines.

The family is for the most part back home (actually just my mom, but it's hard to feel like the place is still yours with her here) and I am no longer the king of my middle class castle. That's right friend, the dream has ended. It was great while it lasted; wake up at about twelve, play piano and read until five came and then I had to leave for work, afterwards coming home and then eating something and lastly fall asleep. Under the circumstances, I'm probably one of the most degenerate kids on the west coast.

Today this gets prematurely ended so I can go find stories to tell.

God damn. Maybe tomorrow.

My days are full.



I can say that now, I suppose. Although a vast majority of my time is now spent at Chilis nowadays, I refuse to allow myself to regret not being around anymore. In a way I feel detached from what all goes down behind the walls of the auditorium lately, like there’s some terrific inside joke I’m just no longer part of or something to that effect, but there isn’t a whole lot I can say about it all. To come from being a horribly poor bastard (despite, mind you, my monthly child support checks) to rolling in more cash than I even have the time to spend is great and all, but it just shows me what I care more about, and that’s theatre. However, this isn’t a cry out to say I regret what I’m doing, I’m just saying I realize what’s more important to me more than even now, but I have to stand by the decision I made for myself to finish off this year with. What really kills me though is some people honestly thought I didn’t even have it in me to make good on my word and follow up on this job. If you fall into this category, I’ll permit my giant wad of cash from tips to serve as my middle finger to you all.

There are no regrets.

Only washing tables and filling up bins with ice.

And talking to the funny servers who are currently employed there.

CONVERSATIONS WITH DEAN:

“Can you take care of these dishes for me?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“That’s right. You know who the badass here is right?”
“It must be you, Dean. But I knew it since day one.”
“That’s right. You know who the fatass is?”
“No idea.”
“Her (Points to the fat ugly server).”

And she was.

“Wow, yeah. I totally agree with you.”
“The scary thing is someone actually fucked that. She’s pregnant.”

To hear Dean belittle his fellow co-workers to me, a recently hired 16 year old, is almost as good as it gets.

We don’t do a whole lot at Chilis. Or maybe we do. I haven’t decided yet.

There is plenty of this though. Plenty of me sitting on the bench with downtime.



And playing with my phone. Matter of fact, today was annual, ‘I-don’t-care-if-you-pay-for-my-phone-bill-dad-I’m-still-going-to-buy-stupid-games-and-download-worthless-shit-for-money-all-the-time-with-my-phone’ day, and the results were purely stellar. I ended up downloading an enticing Garfield bowling game, a crazy game where you make Mickey Mouse wash windows for god knows why and most important of all, I spent $2.99 on a virtual pet download. Why? Well, it’s not my money, so why not? Virtual pets are so ridiculous, I swear to Christ. Does anyone remember these things? Around the time they became huge, I literally implored my mother that my soul and spirits would completely diminish and dissolve if I couldn’t have one. So I got this shitty store brand one of a dog, where you wear it as a watch. I’d always look down after awhile and the thing would have a million problems with it; it’d be hungry and go to the bathroom all over itself so I got tired of it fast. I looked at it more like being married or a commitment I was too young to devote my heart to, so instead, I let Poochie die. And I don’t feel sorry about it either. Anyway, this new thing I just wasted Pop’s money on is this fox/dog thing that loves to use row boats and play football. You can tickle him, or slap him, or commit plenty other acts of virtual animal abuse upon. I did both. First I tickled him, because lets face it, I can be a nice guy on most occasions. The system then told me that my pet liked it so much that he was going to give me money.

Hold up.

What am I, you’re tickle slut?

Hell nah.

I’m worth more than this.

I decided it was due time to move the clicker over the slap button, so I did promptly. As soon as I slapped the fox/dog thing, the system said, “Your pet says: Buy me a wooden bed!” At this point I was just so frustrated with my pet that I turned off my phone. We’re in the middle of a fight, and you’re going to ask me to buy you things? I don’t know what kind of games you’re playing fox/dog thing, but you’re not winning.

This was not the most important part of my day, I promise.

The most important part of my day was turning on Clarity, just by chance. I was browsing through the old Windows Media Player selections, seeing what I hadn’t really indulged my sense of hearing with for awhile, and there was a few names that jumped out at me. Ben Kweller, Further Seems Forever, Taking Back Sunday, Reggie & The Full Effect and so on and so forth (a lot of these artists I’m sure a lot of you are probably sneering at as you read, but hey) and I ended up on Jimmy Eat World. It may have something to do with how nice it is out tonight, or has been lately. It may have something to do with the notion you can literally hear crickets through my cracked window and the universe seems to be serene, in place and getting along alright. Whatever it is, I forget how great these songs evoke thought after a long time. Sure, nearly every single one of these songs I played over and over until they hit the wearisome status of ‘overkill’, but if I haven’t heard them in a long time, it’s golden. Purely golden.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how this school year will possibly end. When it does, I still have no clue as to what’ll be said, the way I’ll say goodbye to certain people, the crazy stir of emotions that’ll transpire and everything else to go along with it, and I almost don’t want to even think in general as a result. But we’re nearing the finish as the days go by. After this week, we only have ten more weeks in total left in school starting tomorrow, and there isn’t anything I can do to make the world slow down. It’s scary to think that some people I know I’ll never talk to again, some people I’ll never see again and some people will gradually fade out into obscurity, and just be a memory burned into the back of my mind years from now. I just think it’s terrible, because the people I surround myself with are the people I love, and I know it’s lame as hell to say it, but there’s always time to be lame when it’s called for.

On a final note, I’m tired of people always being so vague. About what they’re going through, what they’re honestly feeling, or anything. People should just say how they feel. This isn’t pointed towards anyone, but everyone, myself included, in general. I think we’re all lame as hell, and with our time running out with this year, we should just be open.

This’ll take some time though.

In the mean time, I’ll enjoy being a cash money millionaire. Chilis is the label that plays me.

I’ll enjoy abusing my digital pet.

I’ll enjoy myself once a day.

I’ll enjoy being the first person to know that I looked so stellar in a beanie with my gross hair.



I’ll enjoy wasting my father’s money to post this next picture and all the aforementioned. (50 cents a pop!)



And I’ll enjoy the other commodities of life, of which there are plenty. Baby doll.

Say hello to the newest first-time employee you know.



As of last night, I am now on the roster of employment down at Chilis. I'd been bothering the hell out of my friend to get me an application and put in a good word for me so everything could just fall into place job-wise. Obviously, my persistance paid off as now I'll be starting my training on Monday. I know a couple of the kids working there, so, good fortune allowing, this job won't come without at least some perks. I'll be starting out bussing and such as soon as my training is over, which will mainly consist of my chum Reggie telling me "Be sure to do this, dude. Otherwise Richard (the manager) will get pissed," and watching overall common sense videos about working in a restaurant. Look at me bitches; your little Ty is growing up before your very eyes. I get to wear a friggin' apron.



For now, I'll just call it and say my life is great. Things are going better than I could have imagined they'd be going a ways back, not that I was really depressed over anything. Right now though, I don't know if I just did something I forgot about to win some substantial amount of good karma, but I'm sure as hell not complaining about the world lately. Things that could be doing it for me lately are 'Transatlanticism' by Death Cab, pretty girls, hanging out with my boys Matt and Jack, listening to heavy amounts of Sinatra, talking about pilgrim candles with Rachael, writing new material with the band or reading further into the works of Mister Mark Twain, knowing that when I finish I have two Kurt Vonnegut books to read immediately afterwards.



The world is great. Knock on wood, my friends.

Dear wallet,

Where are you? I wish you would find your way back home, but at this point, this seems to merely be a pipe dream of mine. I was a fool to let you go, and so ignorantly too. It wasn't until last night when I realized finally that I either threw you away in a Del Taco bag, mistaking you for trash in a dimly lit car, or you fell off of my lap when I stepped out of Matt's car so he could clean the cushion because I'd sat on a burrito. All of this however is just circumstancial. You know the love I felt for you. I took you everywhere with me, even when I knew you wouldn't be of service to me. Having you right behind me all the time gave me such a spring in my confidence and a little bounce in my step. So how should our story end like this? I'm miserable without you.

It's not just your absence that I have to consider at this time, but the additional loss of my license, my AAA insurance card and my thrifty Fry's VIP card. They were wrongfully taken away from me. And come to think of it, that Best Buy $20 giftcard was with you when you left, and I just received that. That was essentially a free CD that I'm now missing out on, this is fucking terrible. Look, I'm not mad. I couldn't be at a time like this, but there just isn't much left to say, is there? I suppose not...

I've already had offers to replace you, but how could I? You and I were a team. I remember after that show at the Marquee, when you only had a dollar, and coincidentally, the Senses Fail stickers were a dollar, so I bought one, and applied it to you like some kind of badge that just said, "I am a fuckin' teenager, deal with it". That was golden. Or the time I got Katie Lacher's eighth grade picture, which happened to be in sticker form and put it on you, so when everyone asked why it was there I would say she was my girlfriend. I miss our inside jokes. The only prospect I've received so far is Matt's old velcro Hurley wallet from about middle school or so. I remember my velcro Element wallet, and my inevitable decision to replace it with you to escape the humiliation of the velcro everytime I needed to pay for something. Or count my money in the middle of class or so. This is why I depended on you.

Nothing has really changed since you left. I'm still unemployed and my only source of income is my child support. Sure, it's a pretty sweet deal, but now I just look foolish stowing my cash money away in my pocket, without you there to keep it safe. But, I don't know, I'm getting a few opportunities for work here and there. This week I'll try to get a job at Chilis because I know a few of the people there, and if that falls through theres always Fry's and Bashas. I'll feel like a fool going in though, because now I have to find a way to make-up for my lack in confidence, and just have to hope people believe me when I say I can drive or that I'm insured. Aside from that, the only other development here is I received a letter from the National Guard yesterday and that Pam and Steve are looking for an apartment. The world sure changes fast when you're away.



I miss you. Please come back home.

Your buddy,

Ty

The only working part of me that’s productive is here.

It’s only through writing I get anything reasonably started and finished. Aside from that, my days are now uncharacteristically slow. I’m going through withdraw symptoms of not having a routine to fall back into, and the side effects are terrible.

I don’t regret sleeping in over auditions today, however. Having all these shows back to back made for my best year up till now, but hand in hand, it also put a huge strain on my sanity. Right now, I’m at a loss for words and thought, but I know it isn’t because I regret the choice I made. I guess the only way to explain it is even though I should automatically feel as though I’ve made a drastic change to my days, I don’t. Something feels too familiar and draining, and I can’t even begin to put a finger on it, as to what it is.

So that’s just the way it is now, I suppose. Talking to Matt and Jack last night further brought insight into this problem. In some way or another, we are collectively not our usual funny selves, or we are depressing, or awkward. To put this blatantly, we suck right now. Something here is amiss. Whatever it is.

The last thing I want right now is to be the depressing kid with the blog entries about whatever I choose to complain about that day. I’m not a fan of those kids at all. It just seems after all this, the only place left to go now is back down. So I guess I’ll have to start over and make something entirely new out of this mess.