Somehow ended up downtown last night even though I repeatedly said I didn't want to. Gay bars: Made me think of Handsome Boy Modeling School, and instead of "So... How's Your Girl?" it's "so... is this your girl?" Answer: No.

I lost so much of my day today.

Came home: my new bottle of white wine was open, on the coffee table. The cork was in five pieces on the kitchen counter. Brother's door is locked; music is playing. Calling each other on the phone from our adjacent rooms: "This asian girl just blue-balled me." Sorry, bro.

I'm trying to recall all the phone conversations I had today. It's hard.






Mabel and I watched a lot of This American Life after I finally woke up on her couch; that show is truly heartbreaking. Hearing adults use the F-word (especially when discussing their failing marriage) -- still completely jarring.

My old friend's birthday last night: we sat in his closet drinking Maker's Mark and listened to the music we loved when we were young while the party went on without us.






It's funny, those old friends. You share so much that you don't even realize.
"No Parents, No Rules, 2K8."
"No Parents, No Rules, 2KALWAYS."

If I didn't have such phone anxiety I would know a lot more people.

'Oh Shit I'm Kind Of Like, An Adult' moment #6:
Met this awesome girl last night, in a dark swankyish looking bar. She gave me her business card and I gave her my calling card. It was so smooth.

Also she had a tattoo on her chest that said "remain with heart" (I think) and I thought, you know, that's pretty good advice, even without context. Maybe that's not what it said and I thought about about remaining with heart anyway.

Everyone I talked to yesterday was really fun and genuine and easy and posi. This is so rare with people you don't actually know that well; or, I should say, people whose numbers you don't have in your phone.

BLOOD LUST

I don't even know how to talk about last night in a way that could ever possibly recreate the drama.

First: Drinks on the porch at Trudy's. Place is packed. I spot a roach on the wall behind Diane. "Don't talk about it, don't look at it, I don't even want to think about it," Bryce said, stabbing at his salad. Suddenly it rushes towards her: customers are jumping up, hitting the walls with their flip flops in their hands, kicking, stomping, screaming. The roach is killed and everyone dies down, UNTIL......... one minute later, like TEN roaches swarm out from behind the waiter's station. Waves of people are screaming, pointing, slapping, frantically stomping. Roaches everywhere. No one can kill any. Bryce continues to eat his salad; a roach runs past him on the ground and he lifts one leg (without ever leaving the chair) and SLAMS it down defiantly square on the roach. The best part was that he let out a primal scream as he did it. We're dying. Chris had two hands over his mouth and his eyeballs were huge. Before we even get over it (remember: maybe 25 - 30 people are still screaming and stomping and being roach swarmed) it happens AGAIN: again another foot stomp without ever leaving his chair, another direct kill, another primal scream. Random people are telling Bryce he's the man. He continues to eat his salad and be a complete bad ass. "Hey send those roaches over here, I'll take care of them. I don't give a fuck, obviously." And if you're not from Texas, these were the BIG fuckers too, like 2.5 inches long. Northeastern roaches aren't even worth mentioning.

Secondly: Went back to 28th. Play with the dogs and Bryce plays bartender and then these boys - they are like the lost boys, like little savages with rolled up pants and no shoes ever and BB Guns with knives taped to the end - get serious. It's rat hunting time. Food (peanut butter, cheese, and mayonnaise) is placed in the kitchen. The lights go out. The boys get their guns, they sit on the stairs, peering through the railings, and they wait. For however long it takes. Warren poked his head into Tay Thom's room, the gun barrel peeking in with him: "We have a confirmed hit." Run downstairs like kids on Christmas morning. Rat body. The blood looks fake, it's too pink. "Well, it's real." The kitchen floor has rodent blood stains on it. Just think about that for a moment. We looked at the body - Bryce held it with his hand that was wrapped in Saran Wrap and then placed into a plastic bag. One little hole, behind the eye and before the ear. Brain shot.

When I finally left Warren said, "Hey, be quiet on your way out, don't scare the rats away." Taylor was standing with his flood light, ready to go again.

My dreams were filled with rats, being shot or caught by cats and thrashing around. "Then you've got the hunt in your blood," Chris said.

---

Also, we're starting a band, 'cause we look so goddamn good together. EP and a Myspace coming soon.

I pretty much always make bad decisions, but they're so much more fun.

Last night I drank beer and went night swimming after hours in an apartment building's pool that none of us lived in. I was supposed to start studying for either of my two big tests I had today.

"Well, that's a surprise," Taylor said, when the other boys in the pool started to talk to us about Sigur Ros.

One of those nice moments, where everything comes together: sitting on Kevin's back stoop at night, holding his dog Lou Dobb's head and trying to calm him while Dylan attempts to shave off his massive amounts of hair. We were silent almost the whole time, and he made it about halfway before we quit for the evening. It was a group effort, everyone holding the dog or passing the shears around. Our beers were on the steps and the Fruit Bats were playing from the kitchen. Kevin gave Lou a beer to ease his fears. It was suspiciously cool for a Texas summer night.

What was babysitting even like before photobooth existed? I took these kids swimming, to a dog park, on a train ride, and McDonald's, and all they wanted to do was this.

When we went swimming, I felt kinda chubs and roly-poly in my bathing suit, but then I thought, hey, maybe people think these three kids are mine, and if I were a mother of three I would be looking damn good.

---

When I don't have anything pressing on my mind to worry about, I think about things that haven't happened yet and start to worry about those. I wish everyone would get every STD so I never had to worry about it again.

Typical Austin weekend, in the best way possible. Late night tumble home, I sat on the sidewalk to take off my broken shoes. Bro-dude pulls his truck over and asks if we three lovely ladies need a ride. Taylor C. (whom I affectionately think of as my alter-ego) starts to yell at him for his drunk eyes, his red face, his slurred speech: "You're gross! We didn't need a ride from you!"

Like a little brother, he reached for the insult he thought would sting the most, and yelled "LOSE WEIGHT!" to the (cute, slender) three of us. Melanie thought he said "BRUCE WAYNE!" and was confused the whole way home. I didn't realize Bruce Wayne was Batman's alias, so I was confused for the rest of the weekend.

We've also developed the habit of walking out of restaurants with our plastic tumblers in hand.

"Girls who won't admit that boys are better: they suck the most." - oh, ma couer.

Mel says "freshen my drink" and how can I refuse when she asks in such a lovely way?

hrtsck

Sometimes it's nice to fall asleep when you don't expect it, in a place you weren't planning to.

That's not what happened tonight, but I thought it might, and I was reminded.

a day where i'm too busy to post is a good day.

"Actually Taylor, I was just talking about you the other day. One of my friends asked me if I knew anyone that ever got into a car accident with a cop car."

Nice to know my friends still remember me, even the ones I barely ever see.

---

My life lately is like a Miller Lite commercial - cook outs, swimming in rivers, group dinners with friends where everyone is sitting around outside talking and pressing cold beer cans against their damp necks. Funny, 'cause we never drink Miller Lite.

"I still have faith, if I ever had faith."

Tay-tay

Tay-tay Mcgaygay. that's my name, don't wear it out.

two conversations

My second wife is in Italy. Audrey, via e-mail:

"I know a million and plus people from texas right now because my school is filled with kids from Baylard [Baylor]. THeyre either christian artists who forced their jesus music upon me during painting, or lushes that don't like me."

That's a pretty accurate representation of most people here.

---

Chris, via phone:

"I saw your brother today, walking up 24th. I said, 'Excuse me, you goddamned handsome son of a bitch.' He turned around slowly and already had a huge smirk on his face."

I was talking to John, who is lovesick and across the ocean, trying to cheer him up.


"It's like you told me in L.A.: 'I wish I could fuck you and make it better, but I can't.' "*

"That's wonderful. I'm so happy I said that. And you remember it.

"Best/worst thing to say to a distraught heartsick person."

"True."



Then, in true Office Blunder 1996 fashion, I wrote him a long e-mail full of colorful language and stories that did not paint me in a flattering light - old friends get all the true shit - and sent it to his entire family and coworkers. After pressing your face into your pillow and moaning for a bit, what can you do but laugh and move forward?

---

I played all day, yesterday. Everyday should be like that.

---

"Take your questions to a doctor. Think about what Judge Judy would do. And in the case of heartbreak listen to Mariah Carey. And as Rich says, always be honest. And that's it."






*No one ever thinks this story is funny, but I think it is hilarious! I guess you had to be there.

Predictive text continues to boggle my mind. Why is it that my phone can spell 'ejaculated' but not 'verging'?

Speaking of games, I played an off-brand version of Jenga called "Tumbling Towers" tonight. It changes the whole game when everyone is screaming "TUMBLING TOWERSSS!!" as opposed to "...Jenga!"

I saw my friends play a show at my old college. Everyone I know is so talented, it's amazing. It blows my mind in the best way possible.



W.W.S.S.?
I'm a southern bird that stayed north too long

Nobunny - I am a Girlfriend. This song jerks me back to when I was fifteen and I fell in love one hundred times a day and every song I heard gave me that feeling in my guts, like "wow!" Now I'm old and tired and fall in love only ten times a day. That's all pretty melodramatic, but the song is still amazing.

Also amazing is that it's only two minutes long and it feels like five. Part of this may be because I've been listening to it on repeat for an hour.

Talk is cheap
And I am too
And I wanna do more than talk to you.

---

"Girl, you already told me once and I forgot. Obviously I don't care that much."

There's an art to everything.


Unfortunately this is usually only realized when something you took for granted is handled poorly by someone else.







This sounds so esoteric, and it's not; in this case I am talking about waxing.

---

Best. Compliment. Ever.:
"You know, when I first saw you, I thought, 'Tyra would just eat her up!' ANTM!"

Also, it came from a woman who is my age, has three kids, and is super hot. The kind of woman that gives me hope for the future.
The only other compliment in the running is when a yinzer woman told me 'Da-yum!' as we were boarding the same bus.

Bill and Jessica are here! It's nice to be able to say, "stay at my house!" instead of, "can I stay at your house?"

Returning the favor.

---

I can only quit so many bad habits at once; when one dies down another flares up. Think 'Whack-a-mole', but with vices. Bear with me.

Catholic guilt: Even in my dreams, I never get any. Something always goes wrong, or doesn't happen, or whatever. And if you were in my dream last night, you would've seen me give the most polite shut-down to a threesome ever. I practically patted this guy on the head, gave him a cookie, and told him to run along and have better luck some where else.

Instead I have very vivid, cathartic dreams about popping blackheads.

---

W.W.S.S.?
And when summer comes,
It's almost impossible not to have a good time.

Current tally is 4:3, dry-humping/heej.


---


Interpol 7-11 follow up:
Went in tonight for a six pack - no music playing. At the counter, I'm ready to ask the cashier about it: "Hey, no Interpol? What's the deal?" but I see him putting a solid black CD into the player. A few seconds later.......the beginning of Turn On The Bright Lights.

I had a heated discussion over drinks at Happy Hour with my one true, Tracy -

What's lamer: the HJ? Or the dry hump?

We were tied 1:1. I need to ask the people, census-style.

The 7-11 around the block from my house solely plays Interpol. Always. It's confusing to try to be buying a twelve-pack of Tecate while hearing "hip" music (but always the same hip music, every time). Obviously it is the cashier's choice/obsession.

"Hey, I know that guy," Monty said.
"Where do you know him from?"
"I met him at an Interpol concert."

---

I think the point of this is: there's gotta be at least ONE worthwhile thing to say about each day, isn't there? If not, something is wrong.

Look at you, you handsome devil.

Now the real first-world problem: Keep the free iPod touch? Or sell it?

We don't sleep until at least 3 am here, didn't you know?












dog days of summer. all skin.

e-mail excerpt

"but ye i hope austin is having better weather than houston, it is scorching outside and my shirts are starting to stick to my back. I mean, I kind of love that feeling, cause it reminds me summer is here..."




my friends told me it was 104 degrees today.

first apt. day

My brother stripped down to his socks and boxers to eat his sandwich - "I don't wanna stain these shorts," he said.

He then farted and announced he had to poop.

We're home.

All halves and no wholes.




--
Don't forget: sitting in the pool with Tracy, watching the boys play basketball and laughing. The oldest friends know just what to say: cutting, but just enough to make you smile into your cup (that smirky smile) while looking the other way.

--
Oh my nerd:
Drove to ATX today and talked about Weezer B-Sides. Austin mentioned "Let's Sew Our Pants Together" ------ like, whaaaaaat??? Bringing up The Kitchen Tapes? Damn.

Also discussed Goat Punishment and tried to remember River's high school band's name: I was pretty sure it was Avant Garde, but didn't wanna say it in case I was wrong, and turns out I was right. So there you have it.

Our devotion, at the time, was unparalleled. Kevin was in a Weezer cover band, though.

--

Couple of them said I was cute but I was just too chubby
Same size, one year later, same hos wanna fuck me