Hello,

No one goes on Woohu anymore. Hell, I don't. But just in case there are any lurkers of this journal who want to know info about my life, here's the deal. I post on my livejournal, and I don't really give a shit about giving my name out. Just check Oh_That_Clergy on it if you really give a damn. I don't think anyone is reading this, save Amanda( you are a trooper.)

It's been a long time, and I guess I should check in. My computer died out two weeks ago, and I just got it back to speed, somewhat. So much has happened, and yet, those of you who rely on this tool to learn of it, have been sadly deprived. So it's my time to shine right now.

My junior year ended, and I finished with 4 A's and 3 b's for semester grades. Not bad, I guess. I have been writing recollections on my typewriter late at night about this year, and the people I've come to know. Perhaps I'll post it for the shock and awe of the public. I took the SATS again, and did pretty good, 1350. Now that you have these statistics, you can reevaluate my use to you as a friend.

I garnered a summer job at Quizno's subery, on Linton Boulevard and Federal Highway, Delray Beach, Florida 33483. If any of you want to come in and give me some salutations, I'll respect you for that. It's a pretty good job, working with 21% my friend group, taking orders from a lady with a penis haircut, shooting dice with the next-door Chinese restaurant's owner behind the store on my break. And man, I've made enough money in a month to buy at least two DVD's(Not box-sets, of course)!

I've been watching a lot of My So-Called Life on the N. Krakow is such a fuck-up.

I've actually had a pretty good time this summer, social-wise. I have had a lot of fun, with an assorted group of kids. Too much underwear parties. Too much of Andrew getting naked. Too much Risk. Too many memorable moments.

However, there a great deal of kids who I haven't seen really at all this summer, and that is a disappointment( Ian, I want to watch you blow something up soon). But to everyone I have not seen or talked to much, I sincerly hope all of your summers are going well.

I am leaving for Washington D.C. with my father tomorrow to check out some colleges I won't get accepted into. It should be actually fun, since I'm interested in checking out the district, and then we are meeting up with my dad's buddies from his "New Left" days at college. To paraphrase Musical Youth, the dutchie may be passed from the left hand-side.

About the only hole in my life right now is my love-life. I'll admit, I wish I had a girl right now, to discuss the positives of late-70's Ambient and mid-80's Detroit Techno with, to play Yahtzee with, someone who thinks Inspectah Deck is underrated, fuck, any girl who listens to Wu-Tang earnestly. I'm not even that horny. I just fucking miss the companionship, and the feeling that I'm the only rising high-school senior who isn't feeling any boobs( save Krystal's) makes me feel pathetic.

I have had a good time this summer, in particular this last week, and I love my friends. Truly. And I have had some nice first-time conversations with strangers who are nice. And OMG, I got these hot pair of tight jeans today at the mall!

So if I die or something, I just want you to know that I hope all of you have a good life, and I'll see you in St. Louis when you expire.

Love,
Drew R.

Dear Diary,

To the unaware, the past month or so was great. I had someone, and it felt good. I was in a good mood everyday. Hell, I even didn't even care that much about the shittiness of school. We both had a great deal of fun together, or at least I did.

But that was then.

Right now sucks. Seriously, if it wasn't for my friends, who have been super duper, I would be quite depressed. In the meantime, this is all that can elicit joy from me.



I need to cheer up quickly, since I'm doing that AP exam thing up this week. I just wish I didn't feel like I did something wrong. I just wish I didn't have a slight hole in my heart. And lord knows, I just wish I could see 13 Going on 30 again.

To paraphrase Michael Jackson, I'm sad, I'm sad, really really sad. You know it.

Drew R.

Hello,

How's it going babe? Myself, I'm doing great. No complaints here. I'm bored, so I guess I'll resort to Woohu.

The past week has been wonderful, suprisingly. Last Sunday, I went to my friend David's house for, get this, Wrestlemania 20. My friends Shaun, Robert, and Curtis were all there too, who I hadn't seen in two years. I haven't watched wrestling in about 3 years, so it was funny to watch thematches out of context. We all conversed just like it was old times, amazingly. Overall, it was just a great time to hang out with some of my friends from middle school who haven't been in my life for awhile.

I was antsy to get this final week of school over with, but it went by pretty fast, I guess. I pulled off an A in AP English, and a B in Physics, so my grades turned out pretty good. I had some convos with a few people, such as Cary (even though we had stoner/druggie/slut/crackwhore girl trying to talk to us the whole time.) I drove Sara home twice, which was nice. Heck, I even pulled off an amazing comeback going 1-on-1 with her in B-Ball and beat her.

Spring break has been coolio, so far at least. I spent Friday and today lounging around, doing nothing on the former and hanging out with Noah, Krystal, Heather, and Keith tonight. Both had their merits.

Saturday night was a wonderful time as well. Dinner and walking along the Avenue was very, very nice, even though the leftovers dripped on me and I smelt like Italian. It was actually one of the better times I've had in a long time, and hopefully she had a great time too. Since we are both going to be away on college trips for the rest of the week, I know that that will be the peak of my spring break.

As I previously said, my aforementioned trip to Texas happens on Wednesday morning. I will be checking out University of Texas at Austin and SMU in Dallas, while also hanging with my cousins in the big D. I'm gone until Sunday, I believe, so if you would like to get your fill of Drew, you can call me or something.

Well, I'm going to go play around with Tab-It or maybe go to bed, so I'll talk to you later.

Love,
Drew R.

Don't call it a comeback.

But seriously folks, why does life seem to want to be bipolar in my presence? In these past couple of weeks I have had more ups and downs than an elevator. Eeep, that analogy was horrible.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION IS NOT IMPORTANT OR EVEN NECESSARY FOR YOUR CONTINUED EXISTENCE. YET I'M NOT MAKING THIS A PRIVATE ENTRY, BECAUSE ONLINE JOURNALS ARE USED TO EXPRESS YOUR INNERMOST FEELINGS AND EMOTIONS TO PEOPLE YOU MAY OR MAY NOT KNOW. GO LOOK AT KIDDIE PORN.

The past fortnight has been one of the longest I've ever endured, as everyday seemed to drag on forever and quite possibly ever. Maybe time and existence is slowing down so that the 24-hour day is abolished, replaced by tyrannical 40-hour days. Or maybe I need to stop forgoing sleep to watch the Old-School Hip-Hop segment on MTV2 at night.

Even with a half-day and staying home one day because of sickness, life slowed to a crawl this past week. I guess that's what a whole lot of drama can do. Jake put it best today; it's so easy to get sick of high school with all of the drama. The only drama I like to start is woohu drama with Cary, but that's me personally.

Actually, now that I think about it, I don't want to type about it, or write about it, or think about it. Not at this moment at least.

Instead of dwelling on the bad, especially to the public, who I'm sure doesn't want to hear it (they probably don't want to hear any of this), I'll just mention a few things that were good this week:

I am a real fan of making mix cds for people.

I am a staunch supporter of watching the series finale of "My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance."

Talking in the hallways or while walking to my car with girls who somehow make my stomach feel funny is always a highlight of a day.

And most of all, today at lunch, I realized that I am truly blessed to know some of the kids I do know. Just talking with five of these guys, about anime porn or some other inconsequential thing made my week. Thanks.

Keep on truckin kids.

Drew R.

Hello,

The fact that I have only written three real entries since the start of the school year in this woohu journal is either really sad or really good, I'm not quite sure. I guess I just don't really have much to say to the public that I don't talk about with people during school or the weekends. While this means people who don't see at school or at all don't really know how I'm doing, and I am sorry about that, it also avoids anyone who I don't want reading my thoughts from, well, reading them. Of course, that never actually stopped me from writing my innermost thoughts in this.

Anyways, my life is pretty shipshape right now. My grades really sucked last semester, the worst I've ever gotten, so I'm really trying my best this semester. I still do almost all of my AP english homework in first hour, but I'm getting 100% on them now, so that's gravy (train?). There is no point to try hard in physics, since I can't do good in that class, but I have a strong feeling I'm going to keep giving it my all. I made Mr. Hall wet himself when I got that 95 on the test, or at least I hope I did.

It seems like my friend group nowadays is mostly kids in my grade now, unlike last year. This gives a little bit of hope for next year, when a lot of my friends will be gone. But you can't prevent change, and I'll try to welcome it with semi-open arms. I don't really feel like I'm part of a group though anymore, I guess because everyone else seems to have a best friend, and I can't really think of someone who is my best friend at the school, and I doubt there's anyone who considers me their best friend. Actually, that was the case last year too, so it's not much of a difference. However, I will say that there are a few kids who are the definition of ace; few and far between, yet are some great kids, who I am glad to have as friends.

My hair was straightened and cut, as mandated by my mom. It's ok though, hair isn't that important, and it can also become curly again. To tell the truth, it really doesn't matter in the long run. At best, I'll look like a Beatle, and at worst, I'll look like Mike Clark.

When it comes to girls, I got this Spanish chica, she don't like me to roam, so she call me cabron plus marricon. Said she likes to cook rice so she likes me home, but I'm like, "Un momento" - mami, slow up your tempo.

That Jay-Z moment was brought to you by TV's Drew Rosensweig: Ain't Nothin But the Real Thing.

Perhaps I'll start writing in this more often, filling everyone in on the events of my life. I'll try my best to not make this an empty statement. I sincerely hope all of you readers take care of yourself, enjoy life, and keep it real.

Drew R.

P.s. My holidays were all good too. I just don't feel like writing about them right now.

P.P.S. Robert Forster is so fucking legit, it's not even funny.

I have a confession to make to all of you readers, if you can keep it on the D.L. Hughley.

I watched Liar Liar last night on "The Wonderful World of Disney."

As the Thanksgiving holiday is almost upon us, I seem to be happier on the outside and more and more depressed on the inside. It's really pathetic why, but of course I've fallen victim to the number one source of depression in white males ages 12-18 who get good grades and don't do drugs: girls. For awhile I was clean- I didn't really have a yearning for the comfort of another. Relationships in high school seemed to be pointless to me, and I've never been one to indulge in one-night stands just to get a slice. I was jonesin for a girl near the end of the last school year, but summer kind of made me stop craving for her or anyone.

But over the last few months, that hankering for a girl has come back. See, it would be easier for me if it was various girls who popped in my mind as possibilities to date, but more and more it has become one girl again, the same one from last year. And it is ever-so slowly killing my soul.

I retract my earlier comment, about how I thought relationships in high school were pointless. One of the problems I have is I don't want to date a girl just for a short period of time-even say three months. I want to build a relationship, I think. I want to be able to have someone to call on nights like these when I'm bored and know how their day went. I want to be able to have someone to call on nights when I wasn't bored, when I had a great deal of work, yet all I wanted to hear is how their day went. I want to be able to spend my friday nights, every week, doing something with someone, be it watching her favorite movies or going to some bad Japanese restaurant. I want to have a reason to buy a 5 foot tall teddy bear on some random day just because it was their birthday. I realize now that I've being saying someone, but in truth, for me right now, it's just one girl.

I know they don't want to be mentioned in my journal, but just using them as a case example, I want a relationship akin to Holly and Andrew's. They are best friends, they can make fun of each other, but most importantly, they seem to share some interests and truly seem to love each other, if love can be found at such a young age. Maybe the main reason I've never had a girlfriend, looks aside, is that I've never found a girl who I truly shared interests with. There hasn't been a girl that I just thought to myself "Wow, we are perfect for each other." I know that there is a girl out there who listens to the same bands I listen to, loves the same movies I do, and thinks the Bengals are actually a pretty darn good football team; however, I have not found that girl as of yet. As John Cusack said in High Fidelity, all of the above things do matter, in contrast to what some people may think.

So I gave up on finding a girl who shared many similar interests with me. Everything was going great, and then I had to find a pretty girl like her. Sure,there are girls who I've found hotter or sexier, but I don't know, I guess she seems to be different. Sort of like an enigma, wrapped in a mystery, if you'd like me to wax faux-intellectual. It took me so long to just say I like her, as I always tried to go around that word. I don't know why I like her, I don't know why she's different from other quiet cuties, I don't know why I can't find any courage to talk to her; it's just reality for me as of now. Seriously, I feel ashamed of myself, whining about it to my friends, making something as frivolous as talking to a girl seem so important, so life or death. I mean, she knows I like her, and it's basically up to me to do anything about it. Yet, everyday I say I'm going to do something about it, I say I'm going to talk to her after school, but alas, it never happens. Excuses are made on my part, but they all add up to me being just pathetic.

So as it stands right now, I am a failure, when it comes to girls at least. Maybe I should let other girls on to my radar. Or maybe I should stop being such a waste of a man and show some initiative and stop putting off the one thing I want to do until it's too late. Whatever the right thing is, and in my mind and heart, I know the latter is the right thing, but whatever the right thing is, to paraphrase Legends of the Hidden Temple, the choice is mine and mine alone.

Drew R.

Girls, I was hot in 89.

Hello,

For all of you who live and die by my words, here's a little update on my life. School is going pretty well, dislike a few classes, but my grades are above average. Mr. Hall is killing my love of history, but that's what teachers are supposed to do last time I checked.

I went to Boston last week. Quite the excellent time, I must say. Checked out Boston University and was impressed by it. Too bad it's 40K a year. If I get in to their film program, I hope my parents would be willing to remortgage our house, again. I visited family friends I've known all my life up there in Boston and Newton, which brought on some nostalgia.

I've been trying to be a really good friend to more people, and I don't know if I'm succeeding. It's good that I'm friends with some kids I was a douchebag to earlier this school year. Of course, I can never have total tranquility with all my friends, as I have lost contact with two good friends. I don't know if it's worth it to try and patch things up, again, but it's pissing me off, especially since I'm really not sure what I did to them, especially one of said company. It's just...this may be the last year I hang out with a lot of my best friends. As they leave for college and I go to college in a year, there's a great chance that I may never talk to them again. I've seen the relationships that my brother has with his best friends from high school; it's quite strained. So I've decided that it would be pointless to waste the last year of my friendships with many people fighting with them. OMG, I'm rambling on. lolz.

Abby's mom thinks I'm a cutie. Chalk one up for the home team babe.

Some things I miss:

*Hanging out at Noah's most nights this summer.
*Wacthing wrestling with Justin, David, and Kevin.
* Curtis Mayfield.
*Staying up till 4 am listening to music and not having to worry about school the next day.
* Paris and Boston.
* Sushi Jazz with Ben and Vivi
* Late night watching of horrible movies with my brother.

Whoa, hold the phone...I'm almost bearing my heart on the internet. That's my cue.

Love,
Drew R.

There is no way to sugarcoat it: Kill Bill was arguably the best two hours of my life. I have a fucking euphoric feeling, and ain't no Japanese Yakuza is going to silence me.

Seriously, Tarantino has outdone himself. Fuck Mallrats, Fuck Rushmore, Fuck Big Lebowski, and oh no, maybe, just maybe, fuck Pulp Fiction. Kill Bill reigns supreme in my heart and my soul at this hour.

Sometimes life really does feel wonderful, and that, my friends, is not some bullshit insincere one-liner.

Love,
Drew R.

The State of the Drew-nion.

So it's been a good month and a half since I actually wrote anything in this thing, and truthfully, I have been waiting for something worthwhile to happen. Still waiting I guess. But I need to get thoughts down in writing, and of course, they need to be broadcast to the public.

School has been up-and-down so far. Actually, it's been pretty good in truth. Newspaper is rather pointless, and I dislike a lot of kids in the class, but I like writing, and Ms. Rossi is pretty legit. Ap English and Ap History are surprisingly not bad. They are my two favorite subjects, so I enjoy them, and I don't hate Ms. Schilit or Mr. Hall, shockingly. Trigonometry and Physics I flat-out hate. Both are the epitome of everything I loathe about school. I can barely stay awake in trig, and Mr. Bailey is a horrible teacher. It's nice having a class with Cary, albeit one in which we can not converse much. Physics is the only subject I've ever had in my years as a pupil that I really don't understand. It's not Mr. Perry's fault, at least I don't think.

Band is not even worth my time, in many ways. Of course, I choose to stay in the program, so it would be hypocritical of me to whine about my continued involvement in it.

Friends-wise, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, to be oh so blunt. I feel I've offended all of them somehow. Eh, that's life I guess. Some people I find annoying. Many find me annoying probably. I try to be a good guy, maybe my effort is a failing one. Some of you are much better friends to me than I am to you. A small minority of you are not as good of friends to me as I am to you. But honestly, there'a a small group of people that I truly enjoy and love, no matter what the last few weeks or months may have done to deter your feelings on this. And if you are reading this, thanks for making a period of my life that sucks for a lot of kids, well, not suck.

Let's not talk about girls. A small, small, small group at Atlantic are cute in my eyes. Almost as small as the group that find me cute (Have to have some self-deprecating moment in my entry.) My current plan of action: ignore any girls I think are attractive and tell any that think I'm attractive that I'm a pedophile. If said admirer is in fact in pedophile range, I resort to telling them I'm gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course.

Oh, and Lost in Translation is my favorite film of this year. That film...it just brought such a great feeling to me, I really want to watch it again. And again.

So to recap, I am actually pretty happy as of now. My life is far from horrible, I have a group of kids that are above-average, in my eyes, that seem to not hate me. I'm in the top-50 in my class, I write for the Sun-Sentinel, and I am currently pushing 140 lbs. You like the way I move?

Love,
Drew R.

P.s. I quoted one of the new Outkast singles in my entry. Because that hasn't been done by anyone. Shazam.

You know how some things come and go, and you don't quite know what happenend, but you get the idea? Maybe my summer deserves this tag. Actually, now that I think about it, I can recount this summer pretty well. Come along for this fantastic voyage baby.

So the first two weeks of summer went by, and I did nothing. A little American Gladiators watching, couple dips in the pool, Tae Bo, etc. I remember my Smiths phase that I was into, when depression was sinking in slightly. Then I went on my cruise, which was rather enjoyable, save for the pointless kids on the ship, except for the ten year-olds who thought I was cute. I almost acted upon their wishes, but then I realized I wasn't a member of the Catholic Church. Ouch. I do have to say that San Juan is a beautiful city, and definitely on my short list of cities to visit again. And how could I forget blasting My Bloody Valentine at 2 am because my dad's snoring was so loud.

I gallantly returned from my cruise, and proceeded to be at odds with my mom for the next week or so. Luckily, we resolved our differences, and were pretty good with each other the rest of the summer. I remember standing outside my house waiting for Krystal and Arianne to pick me up one rainy night. I remember how cool it was to hear Noah talk about his trip to Miyazu. I remember the Alamo as well.

Summer really began with the first day of hanging out with Ian, Austin, and Sara. Quite a fun day, possibly the funnest of the summer. Bowling, driving around, thrift stores, what it is to burn, slurpees-what more could a boy ask for? Then I went to Orlando and checked out UCF and then UF. The trip was a lot better than I thought it would be, since the hotel that the school system put my mom at was easily the nicest hotel I've ever stayed at. And the car ride with my dad up to Gainesville was sweet I guess, talking about Ally Sheedy circa Breakfast Club.

July went by really fast. Mostly spent nights with Ian, the Kerrs, Tucker, Austin, and of course Noah. In fact, for awhile, the Garbarino residence was my second home, as it is to many people I have learned. Mario Kart and Goldeneye consumed many a night. Also, the dinner with Ben and Vivi at Sushi Jazz was a wonderul night, makes me want to do it again.

Suddenly, summer was over, and band camp was upon me. Much better than any other year, I must say. As I look back on my summer goals, I'd feel pretty good about myself. Sure, I didn't write a screenplay, and I gave up on Bust-a-Move by the 3rd week of June. The noise rock scene is still non-existant down here, no thanks to me. But I did become exposed to many more bands and genres of music, and I can say now that I have almost earned the right to be called a music nazi. Even though I know I'll be called that anyway because I didn't get the new Dashboard. "A Mark, A Mission, a Piece of Shit. " And I did some pieces of writing, some posted on here, others not, that I am actually proud of. I didn't see many films in the theatres though. Eh, they all sucked probably. Except for Gigli. That looked like a classic.

I will admit, I never felt more at peace with myself than on some of the nights where I put one of my favorite albums and just drifted off, until I realized it was 4 am.

My few regrets this summer: Not seeing Cary or Dave this summer. Also, I didn't lose as much weight as I should have, but at least I'll always have my bulimia. Much thanks to Ian for the Veterans Park nights. Much thanks to Austin for being a good kid. Much thanks to the Kerrs for a few exciting nights, in part to the one night stint of Lark Voorhees and the Dustin Diamond Trio. Much thanks to Ben for not caring about me being at your house many nights. Much thanks to Noah for dealing with kicking my ass every night in N64 games. Much thanks to Sarah Largo Knotts for the countless nights of sometimes pointless convos, sometimes thoughtful convos. And much thanks to any other person who made my summer good, at all, through online conversations, or in-person meetings. Of course, there's only one song that will define summer for me, and only 3 people have any clue why. And I doubt any of them are reading this.

"Hey what's happening
is rap a thing
or maybe not
well I don't really know you

I thought I'd introduce
and I'd abuse
the fact that I am rhyming

Well you're my fatal attraction
I saw you and my heart had a chain reaction
when I smell your perfume
it smells like D O O M doom
and doom backwards is mood

I'm in the mood for you girl
(he's in the mood for you girl)
in the mood for you girl
(he's in the mood for you girl)
hope that you will know it's true
'cause I am in the mood for you
I'm in the mood for you girl
(he's in the mood for you girl)
in the mood for you girl
(he's in the mood for you girl)
in the mood for you girl
(he's in the mood for you girl)
yeah, I am in the mood for you

So what's going on
I'd like to run
but I dont have my running shoes with me
(running shoes)
Yes you're still the best
of all the rest
we'll grap the chest
'cause its not that heavy

I released twelve doves
'cause when your here I'm totally hot
and it makes my body numb
I know that makes me sound dumb
but dumb backwards is almost mood

I'm in the mood for you girl
(He's in the mood for you girl)
In the mood for you girl
(He's in the mood for you girl)
Hope that you will know it's true
'Cause I am in the mood for you
I'm in the mood for you girl
(He's in the mood for you girl)
In the mood for you girl
(He's in the mood for you girl)
In the mood for you girl
(He's in the mood for you girl)
In the mood for you girl
(He's in the mood for you girl)
In the mood for you girl
(He's in the mood for you girl)
Yeah, I am in the mood for you

You know there comes a time in every boys life When he has to make a decision
A decision involving women or girls
And you know what my decision is girl
'Cause you know I love you

(Song's not over yet)

I know what you're thinking
When you're drinking
And I think the same thing that you do
Sort of
We can have a fight
And talk all night
About what we drink earlier
Or what we thought we were thinking

You're my fatal attraction
I saw you and my heart had a chain reaction
When I smell your perfume
It smells like D O O M doom
and doom backwards is mood

I'm in the mood for you girl
(He's in the mood for you girl)
In the mood for you girl
(He's in the mood for you girl)
Hope that you will know it's true
'Cause I am in the mood for you
I'm in the mood for you girl
(He's in the mood for you girl)
In the mood for you girl
(He's in the mood for you girl)
In the mood for you girl
(He's in the mood for you girl)
Yeah, I am in the mood for you

You know this is the time of day
When i like to lay down and go to bed 'cause It's night time and id love for you to lay down with me
'Cause I think you're fantastic"


Love,
Drew R.

So if you have been wanting to know what's been going on in my life for the past week, you are in luck. Not much has changed. Going over to the Garbarino's. Jamming on Mario Golf, Mario Party, and Goldeneye. Veteran's with Ian, Abby, Austin, and the Jake-Lexie coalition of love. Side thought: I would like a relationship with a girl that's as sweet as theirs. Dinner with Ben and Vivi was nice. I'm glad they at least showed up, and I am happy that you guys enjoyed it. Went clothes shopping with my mom at Burdines. Got into a fight, because I didn't want to pay $70 for a shirt I didn't even like. Guess who won that battle. Morikami with Noah on Friday was interesting. A lot of classic comments were made by me.

"So Noah, was your host mother Asian?"

Game. Set, Bookmark. Anyways, went to the gym today with Wrestling captain Will Durgin. He decided to make me lift weights for two hours, and while the sentiment was appreciated, I can't feel my arms as of this typing. And you don't need to be buff to be indie. Indie 4 life!

So I get home, and read on Pitchfork that the Exploding Hearts, the best new power-pop band I've heard in ages, had their van flip over while traveling to their next gig, and 3 of their members died. Now I hate when deaths of celebrities are overly mourned, because I don't see how the death of a NBA player or of a rock star who overdosed is sadder than a single mom/dad getting run over by a car or a little kid dying of cancer. But I was saddened by this extremely. First of all, their record Guitar Romantic has been one of the 5 most most played albums this summer by me. It isn't anything that original or special; just some really fuckin enjoyable rock music. Download some songs, or better yet, buy their album. This band would be big right now if anyone had heard this record. Secondly, none of these guys were over 23, and it's not like they weren't doing anything with their lives, which is more than a lot of people their ages can say. And finally, well, words can't describe it. I didn't know them, and they didn't know me, but I guess when you play their record, you feel connected. I am well aware of how corny this sounds, and believe me, I'm not trying to be melodramatic. I don't know, it's just a major shock. It's weird; I see and read about death in the news all the time, from the war in Iraq to local deaths, and I never really think about it. But when it happens to another group of strangers who died two mornings ago in Oregan, I am affected by it. I know in the pantheon of death, this is ever so minor, and won't be remembered by 99.9999998% of the world, but this will stick with me for the rest of my life. And god, how many people have to die before we all start wearing seatbelts? Anwyas, life is fragile. Blah blah blah. Let's go get trashed.






goodnight E.H.

Summer Hymns. by drew richard rosensweig.
How does one do it? How does one man become such a hit with the ladies? Even that aforementioned man who was a hit with the ladies did not know. Quite an average teenager, he woke up one day, and they were all over him. Cheerleaders, drama kids, it didn't matter. They wanted him like a pack of rabid dogs in heat. No matter where he went, they were there, ready to jump on it, to quote the Sugarhill Gang. Surely one would not pass on their blessing. Most definitely he would open up shop in his bedroom and have these teenage girls take tickets, waiting for their 5 minutes of glory. But not for him. He had never been seen pleasuring a lady. One mid-morning, as he was eating some frozen yogurt outside Cream Dream, the local iced-delights restaurant, a young girl, no more than of 19 years of age came up to him. Instead of trying to stick her tongue inside his mouth, as was the case for the typical admirer, she handed him a letter, addressed to, convienently addressed to "God." He opened the letter, and read the one-line entry. He folded the letter up and handed it to the girl. He finished his yogurt, and rose to his feet.

"My lady, I only fuck 50-year olds. And my name is Raymond."

And that's how the cow is milked.




(honestly, what the fuck did I just write? I really need to sleep.)

That song title is too long.

I'm going to shake this down fast.

Noah came over last night, and we watched Back to The Future, This is Spinal Tap, and the Big Lebowski. Good times. Tryed pulling the all nighter, but my sleep cycle had something to say about that.

Tonight I was back at the Garbarinos. Pretty fun night, I'll admit. A little hectic a few moments, but that's what you get with a few kids. I felt bad truly that I didn't talk to the Wellington girls. I know the feeling of being with a lot of strangers and having them not talk to you, which they probably felt, and that feeling sucks. My regards ladies(who aren't reading this.) Oh, and Ben and I had quite the game of Mario Golf. Work on your skills kid; one day you might be more than a total failure at the game. Ouch.

"Hi, I'm Sara, and I'm going to forget the mix cd Drew spent an hour making for me because I yelled at him earlier to make me one. And I'm dumb."

Thursday night. Sushi. Twister. Bop-It. I'll call you.

There ain't no party like a drew-funk party.

"There is nothing left to say that has not been said."

I heard this in Trail of Dead's song "Mistakes and Regrets." But the fact is, this has been said before it was said by Trail of Dead. And was probably said before that, and will be said after I say it. It seems like my life as of now can be summed up in that one line. It has become the saying that I hold next to my heart the most now, right above "What's the point?"

Everything that I could write about has been written about before; different characters, same story. This holds true for everything; my life, my writings. There is no new ground to break, only different ways to traverse it.

And all the great artists, writers, musicians had to accept this fact. Trail of Dead did, and still wrote a song that I could relate to, even though what it was saying had already been said. Maybe I need to just succomb to this fact and go with it. But I just can't yet.

All that has gone on in this journal of mine, has happenend to someone else, with different circumstances and different names. This could be the wrong idea or attitude, but I think it's the truth. The whole world seems to abide to this aformentioned saying.

Record reviews always compare the reviewed record to another one from the past, noting how it sounds like some other band or artist. People leave movies and talk about how the writing was very "Lynch-esque," or how the score was quite "Capra-like." Humans don't like the word "new", they want everything to be familiar, to be cozy. "Oh man, that new Interpol record is such a throwback to the early 80's art-rock scene. The vocalist sings like the guy from Joy Division. And the guitars are very Mission of Burma-sounding." How many reviews of records, books, movies etc. sound like that?

Everything that I have said this entry has also been said before by someone else. And one day I will have to come to terms with that.

Hey...been trying to meet you.

Description of the past week begins now. Went to Orlando, visited UCF(pleasant surprise), slept with 43 year old, learned of my dad's almost 20-year crush on Ally Sheedy, went to virgin megastore. Bought a shitload of cd's, including such winners as:
Replacements-Tim
GYBE!-Lift your skinny fist like antennas to heaven
Clearlake-Cedars
Grandaddy-Sumday
Panthers-Let's get serious
Dismemberment plan-is terrified
Sonic Youth-daydream nation
1 mile north-minor shadows

All very good albums, save for Grandaddy's, where most of the songs sounded the same. I'm aware that all of the above information was useless to your lives. Of course, most people are useless already.

Anyways, the last week I've been working at Sandoway alot, and hanging with Noah and the Kerr family. It's been nice spending time with the "Adastra crew" like it was earlier this year. 80's bands, fat and worthless jokes towards me, and a lot of andrew's bare ass...now thats what summer's about. July 4th was nice at the kerrs. I wish I had been friends with Tucker sooner, he's an enjoyable guy to be around.

So summer is treating me well right now, which is all i can ask for i guess. Have a ball ladies and gentlemen.

I don't want to sound bipolar, but today was great. Mom woke me up to tell me Sara had called. So I called her back, and soon enough Ian, Austin, and her were at my house. After I got some pants on, we rolled. Did some thrifting, because we are that punk rawk. Then we saw Devin and Anca driving in boca, so we followed them and Ian got their attention. Hung out with them for a little bit, twas nice. Anyways, we went bowling after we ran into the heavy metal guy outside the candle shop. Much fun was had, even though I was horrible. After hanging out at Sara's, which was fun, if only for the line "wait, you're brother is named Gerard?", which had Austin inexplicably almost shit himself, I was back at my house. My mom and I smoothed things over, which I hope is permanant. Then the family had some KFC, which was quite bitchin.

So, anyways, I'm quite happy right now. It was nice to spend time with 3 people I severly needed to spend time with. Much thanks to them.

And I will see you at the movies.

Whatever happenend to the Breakfast Club? I mean, the film ended happily enough, with the group of different kids feeling a connection with each other. But what became of them in the next few weeks, months, years? My guess is that they maybe met together as a group one, maybe two more times, definitely in their earlier years. Then they grew apart, forgetting about that bond they shared. Anthony Michael Hall became a millionaire, Molly Ringwald a housewife. Ally Sheedy stopped being a crazy girl and joined the working world, Emilio Estevez came out of the closet. And of course Judd Nelson died. But this isn't the real point of the entry; I got to thinking what will happen to my friends and I. Since I obviously can't tell, I will do the smart thing and predict what will happen, as urged on by Holly. Wackiness will ensue, and we will learn a lesson.

So to begin this pointless experiment, I think I will take everyone's favorite silent kid, Noah "The Bear" Garbarino. Since he's already shown proficiency at staying in a long relationship, he will most definitely marry early, probably a girl he met in college. No kids. Working as an insurance guy or something. He will have a grizzly beard, and will be the same old guy. Silent to strangers, funny as hell with his friends. Ten bucks he gets knifed in a carjacking.

The older Garbarino, Ben, will be a different story. I think he'll make it as a jazz musician, touring with many bands. He will marry much later in his life, after much searching. I'm going to out on a limb and say he may, just may, go bald. Just throwing that idea out there. Probably will open up a daycare center when he hits 65. Then he will drift off in his sleep one day.

Ian, obviously, will become one of the leaders in the "penis stand-in" business. He will probably get gonorrhea at an early age and thus live a tranquil life. He will live in California and bike a lot. He will have one kid, and teach little Obi-Wan Knabe to skank like no one has skanked before. He will fall off a cliff, or something crazy like that.

Sara B. will probably go to college and join a sorority. After getting filled-out more times than an college application, she will graduate with a degree in marketing. She will find true love in an Indie film director, and they will become one of Hollywood's it-couples. She will squirt out a few kids in her early 30's, and then settle down in Carolina. She will have a weave. And then one day she will get breast cancer, and like the fucker it is, she will succomb to it at the age of 83.

Cary will keep it real as a freelance writer/cheerleader coach. He will continue to be cynical until he has a little girl through a one-night stand. Not wanting his kid to hate the world as he did, he will make an honest effort to conform.However, he will never buy one of those mini-American flags to stick on his SUV.

Dave will work his way up the NFL ranks using his knowledge from Madden and become the first Canadian Jew-Fro'd general manager of the Falcons. Never will marry, just will have plenty of whores. He will die in a pool of his own urine.

Holly will find a chicken head in her bucket of KFC one day and win a huge settlement. She will use this money to buy Ebony magazine. There will be a huge flow of "Chocolate milk" in her bedroom at night. She will then be capped in a East coast/West coast crime.

Andrew will be in a lot of bands from age 20-35, scoring minor hits as a drummer for Two Tickets to St. Paul and Tomorrow is After Today. He will then drop the sticks and write the musical "Crotch-Fire!!!" which will become an Off-Broadway hit. His shaggy hair and loveable smile will be with him till the day he dies.

Keith will shave the fro off after high-school and concentrate on his studies, becoming the most successful Kerr in the field of breast pump production. He will marry a Polish lawyer and have 6 kids. All will be fatasses. He'll eat one too many cheeseburgers, and will have a heart attack at age 53.

Krystal will go sXe and be a yoga instructor. She will be a new age freak and practice free love. This free love will lead to a bout with the Herp. Luckily, Herpes is a curable disease in the future. However, she will get hit by a car after she gets her final treatment for the disease. She will be remembered by her friends as a sort of African American Madonna, only less of a slut.

A.J. will die of a heroin overdose.

Vivi will be a successful business woman, and will marry a 50 year old writer as a young woman. Since he will already be shooting blanks, she will have no children. But many would say she lived the most enjoyable life of us all.

Shane will be drafted and die in 'Nam.

Austin will go to college and become one of the coolest kids on campus. He will also marry the girl of his dreams. They will have two kids, who adore him. He will then bite it in a ski accident. Fuckin ski-lifts.

Abby will become a big underground novelist, writing mostly tales of young girls coming to grips with life. She will do cocaine, but only to enhance her writing skills. Most days will conclude with her dancing to Van Morrison records on her patio. She will probably die, i dont know how.

And for me, Drew? I don't know. I will probably get a degree in Creative Writing, and fail at doing what i love. I will retreat to doing some sort of worthless job. Hopefully i will marry a girl i truly love, but who knows? I will drink White Russians constantly, and may have a kid or two. I don't really want to think about my own death, because I am not a fan of thinking of such things.

I'd like to think I will keep in contact with all of you, and you will keep in contact with each other, but only time will tell.

Hopefully this provides some enjoyment for all of you.

I was going to write a short story, but I'm too tired right now. So I'll just pool together some random thoughts. Deal with it.

I deleted the long post describing my cruise, and I don't know why. I have been deleting a portion of my journal entries, mostly lists and older, pointless entries. Whatever.

I had basically the first interaction with my friends since school got out Saturday night. Krystal and Arianne picked me up, and drove me to Noah's. On the way there, we got lost a few times, I talked to Shane on Krystal's phone, and an old man threw a pack of cigarettes into the car. Even though I knew cigarettes make you cooler, get you chicks, and help your billiard skills, I decided to not take a puff. The Garbarinos was nice as always, catching up with Noah and getting thoroughly beaten in Mario Kart 64.

Watched Old School with my brother, and was surprised at how funny it was. I think it's because the lead actors are so good at playing one character. Will Ferrell-Crazy slightly dim-witted guy, Luke Wilson-Cynical straight man, Vince "Doubledown" Vaughn- Asshole.

Right now, my relationships with peopleare quite varied. My mom and I are at each other's throats daily. She hates my clothing, my ways, my everything. I hate the fact that she hates the aforementioned things. It's ashame, because I don't want to fight with her at all, maybe we can work out our differences. On the other end, my brother's girlfriend and I are starting to bond. I don't know if she hates me or likes me, but I have been very friendly to her and learned a lot about her the past few days. And when it comes to my friends, I have no clue. I feel like I've had too few conversations with the handful of people I really want to talk to. I have also grown apart from lot of my friends, I feel. I have no exact reason why, but maybe this can be changed with hanging out with them.

I think it has come to a point when I'm happiest when it's late at night, and I'm just zoning out on my bed listening to some music. I think it may be the music or the moment, but I own it, and I never wanna let it go. (Lose Yourself reference: check.)

Whatever you do, dont watch VH1's list of the gretest songs of the last 25 years. It's so fucking horrible. I advise you to watch MTV2's Subterranean show on Fridays instead. For one hour a week, I have that thrill that many people felt long ago of seeing my favorite bands' videos. Just for showing El-P's brilliant Stepfather Factory video makes them winners in my book.

I think I may just start listing the top ten songs on my mp3 playlist right now, in no particular order. Maybe you will be inclined to listen to them, but I have a feeling that the majority of you reading won't.

1. Rhett Miller- Wave of Mutilation (pixies cover)
2. Blind Wllie McTell- Kill It Kid
3. Smiths- Pretty Girls Make Graves
4. Bob Dylan- Hurricane
5. Cat Power- Names
6. Coldplay- The Scientist
7. Phantom Planet- Sombody's Baby
8. Elliot Smith- Ballad of Big Nothing
9. Songs:Ohia - Two Blue Lights
10. My Morning Jacket- I Needed it Most

Well, I'm tired now.

I am leaving on a cruise tomorrow. Should be fun. Hopefully.

Quick recap of summer so far is as follows:
-Haven't seen anyone, sav for Heather at Wendy's and when Vivi delivered music to my house.
-Had my family act like asses to me most of the time, specifically about how I dress and why I have no job.
-Picked up the Malkmus and the Jicks new album, an Elvis Costello greatest hits collection, The Microphones' The Glow pt. 2, Jeff Buckley's Grace and two Nick Drake albums. Burned a Django Reinhardt double disc collection from my brother.
-Have read a few books already. Slaughter-House Five, Perks of Being a Wallflower, and Mirth of a Nation. Am going to read The Fountainhead while on my cruise.
-My sleeping schedule is now 4:30 am to noon. I need to change that when I get back.
- Have been writing a lot more, as evidenced from my last two entries. It's more to help build my skills, but it also is kind of relaxing.
-Am going to go thrifting with Austin when I get back. Holla.
-I have missed Noah, seriously. It's not the same without him. Heather and Krystal could give a long speech about this.

Well, I'm gone. Maybe I'll be able to update on the cruise ship, but I'm not sure, and it's not one of my top priorities. If anyone wants to drop by tonight to say goodbye, go right ahead. My mom will kill me, but that's after you leave.

And oh man, The Even Stevens Movie is tonight.

Later babe

It suddenly occured to me that a hunger had built up inside my stomach. So I continued walking down the sidewalk, until I found an old-looking diner. It seems as though that's the only kind of diner these days. The door was already ajar, either for customer's convenience or out of laziness. I walked in and noticed that the whole place was rather dirty and unkempt. I wasn't in the mood to be seated by some stranger, so I took a seat in a booth by the corner. I quickly noticed that I was the only patron in the diner. Sort of a turn-on. I waited for about five minutes, not hearing a sound in the place. I was going to call "hello?" out, but I wasn't a fan of raising my voice. Which wasn't a major help during my high school Glee Club days. Finally, an elderly woman of African descent, or maybe European descent, I don't really know, came from the back to take my order.

"What will you be having tonight kid?"

I mentioned to her that a menu would be helpful.

"Believe me son, unless you plan on buying a stairway to heaven tonight, you'll be wanting the egg salad," was her reply.

Quite unsure of what she meant by the whole stairway deal, I took her advice. She went again to the back to bring me some coffee. Or maybe she was going to smoke a cigarette, I can't say for sure. I perused the walls of the diner, seeing if I could count all the holes in the walls and ceilings. I was up to seventeen when the elderly waitress of African or European, or possibly Eskimo descent came back with a cup in one hand and pot of coffee in the other. She began pouring.

"So what's your story kid?"

I felt it was time for a Smiths reference, quite sure that she wouldn't know I was quoting the lyrical genius of them.

"Sixteen, clumsy and shy. That's the story of my life."

"Uh huh. Now would you like cream with your coffee Morrissey?"

Never underestimate the musical knowledge of elderly waitresses of African or European or Eskimo, or possibly Japanese descent. Her name was Ava. Well, her nametag said that at least. And isn't that the point of nametags?

"Ava, I like my coffee like I like my women. Blacker than the heart of a Republican."

"I voted for Reagan. Twice."

She finished pouring the coffee to the brim, and returned to the back.

I wondered about two things in her absence, none more important than the other. First, why did I make that analogy? I don't even drink coffee, so how would I know how I liked it? And secondly, who over the age of 42 listens to the fuckin Smiths? Then I remembered that my 6th grade Social Studies teacher once did a lesson on the effects Hatful of Hallow had on the geo-political landscape of post-Cold War Russia. I read two years ago that he died from colon cancer, at the age of 76. I didn't do the math, and just figured he was older than 42 when I was his pupil. God rest his soul.

Ava returned to me, no egg salad with her. I had finished my cup of coffee, even though I hated the taste of it.

"I'm sorry, our one cook is drinking Jack Daniels in the back. Doesn't look too good. So don't get your hopes up on the egg salad."

"Ava, who is your favorite movie star of all-time?"

"Jimmy Stewart. He always played characters with great character and morals. I respected that. Who was yours?"

"Val Kilmour. I just liked him as Iceman."

She just stared at me.

"You know...in Top Gun."

Still staring.

"Remember...'I feel the need for speed'."

She gave me a smile.

"Tell me kid, you ever been in love?"

"Yes." This was not the truth.

"It's a great thing. My husband, Robert, he used to kiss my toes before we made love. It was sort of his ritual, or tradition. I never asked him why, for I never cared."

"My mom and dad stopped having sex after I was born."

"Don't take it too personally."

"Never did."

"Robert...he was coming home from the grocery. Bad snowstorm. There was no way to see in front of him. He got in an accident."

"He died?"

"No. No, he hit a person. 17 year-old girl. Didn't die right away, was in a coma for about two weeks. And now Robert is serving a life sentence. He could appeal, but what's the point?"

"Do you visit him?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"What's the point?"

"Don't you love him?"

"Yes."

I hated it when people asked me questions that I didn't want to answer.

I scrounged up some change, and handed her the money.

"If I may ask, what is love, to you?"

"When I first met Robert, he loved the Beach Boys. And I hated them, profusely. I couldn't stand them at all. And he kept playing their records, and I kept hating them. The years passed, he still played the same Beach Boys records, I hated them. And one day, not too long ago, he played that same Beach Boy record that I detested for so long, and I almost liked it. Almost."

I walked out of the diner, no longer hungry, even though I never did get that egg salad.

The snow-covered ground caught my eye. I noticed this park had stopped bristling with energy as dusk approached. As I searched for an appropriate place for this meeting, I saw a kid, no more than eight years of age, slip and fall on the ice-bitten ground. A warm smile fell over my face, as I found humor in the fact that I found this accident comical. I sat down at a slightly frosted bench, leaving space for one beside me. As I waited, I would like to say there were thoughts running through my head, but it seemed as though the winter air froze the thought out of me.

Slowly, he appeared from the top of a nearby hill. His hair wasn't as thick, nor dark as I remembered it. I noticed that he walked without the same youthful swagger as we all did before we encountered the real world. I never did look to see if I had lost mine. He took his seat on his respective side of the bench. We were always against shaking hands, or any salutation in fact. For awhile we sat there, neither saying a word, taking brief glimpses at each other, as if we were trying to learn everything about each other's last decade and a half of living from the way we looked. From his finely tailored suit, exotic loafers, and wrinkle-laced face, I could gather a few hints at his life. Must be a lawyer, maybe even a partner. Unfaithful wife that craves more excitement than what her marriage has doled out to her. Two soccer-playing kids, still too young to be crestfallen with the typical cynicism and angst that comes with puberty. A maid named Bessie who makes their lunches, which they naturally trade with other kids on balogna sandwich days.

He no doubt gathered from my dirty corduroy jacket and seemingly invulnerable old Adidas that I had made a terrible mess of my life. Which would make my day. Finally he turned to me, wearing a sly-smile, and said it.

"I won, and you lost."

And I noticed that when I looked into the eyes of this once-familiar man, I saw contempt. I saw a victory-craving man. I saw a stranger. I just laughed to myself, finding this to be amusing.

"I am right, and you are wrong."

This is what he served up to me, seeing that his first statement didn't faze me. I returned his serve with a wide smile. So naturally, he began to let all of the past winter's frustrations show.

"And I never did like your face."

I unleashed a loud laugh. Tears almost streamed down my face with glee. I gathered myself together, and said the only right thing.

"My old friend, I have never had a job, because I never wanted one."

I leaned over and gave him a hug. Not a short one. No, the long, embraceful kind. I noticed he had given in, and begun to cry, not out of joy, but out of shame, sadness, grief. I let go, and got up. He raised his hand to say goodbye, but I shook my head, reminding him of our old rule. I started walking, not looking back at my fallen friend. Seeing that night was about to descend on the city, I gave a final smile, that one could only get when they knew that they were, in fact, the winner.

I've been wanting to do this for awhile, but I never felt up to the task until now. So here we go.

If there was ever a year to look back on and reflect upon in my life so far, this school year would be a front-runner. A lot of changes, occured, good and bad. But overall, it was a fun ride. I guess.

I came to the first day of band camp, a little taller, voice a little deeper, penis still the same size. Band camp...what a waste. That's the first moment when I thought to myself "why am I not a drama kid?" But it came and went, and soon enough it was the night before the first day of school. Now I'm not going to lie; I didn't really enjoy high school my freshman year. All of my good friends from middle school went to other high schools, I was a loser, and had no identity. The year went by fast, making lots of acquaintances, but no true friends. I also was not part of any group or clique, which I kind of wanted, like it was back in middle school. So I had a long summer, alone in my room, listening to the Pixies and Pavement.

But back to my sophmore year. I didn't know what to expect from this 15th year of my life. Classes began, and I felt more comfortable in them, knowing more people. I began to crack more jokes, like I did middle school. And through band, I started finding more of a group. I'd say the first seeds of any popularity came through Frugby. Going over to Andrew's before games truly was the best part of the week. Between hearing them jam and the actual game of Frugby, it was quite an experience. I realized that these were the kids I wanted to hang out with for the rest of my high school days. However, I sincerly doubted that the feeling was mutual at the time. I mean, they were all nice to me, but they didn't know me well.

So as the band soared into inadequacy, I began to have more fun. Hung out more, talked more, went to Denny's more, hated ryan merkel more, etc. I was also kind of owning most of my classes in one-liners. Mostly just the classes with a large amount of white preppy kids. I was also raping all of my classes, except ap history, but thats because i never read the stuff. So as I came to winter break, I was happier. I still wasn't totally part of the group, but I still hung out with them in school.

Winter break was pretty good. Don't remember much from it. I do remember one of the best nights of the year though. The night of christmas when i was saved from my drunken in-laws by the Garbarinos. We went to go see Two Towers with paul h. also, but it was soldout. So we hit up boomer's and then we drove to Veteran's Park at about midnight. And the weather was so nice. And that's where me and noah and ben started talking about making the Lord of the Rings Garb/Rose joint. Quite possibly the best idea that never happenend.

So I came back from Winter break, and drifted along for awhile. Until Noah told me one day that him, Ben, Andrew, Keith, and nick had made a band. So, remembering that my video camera was drawing dust in the corner, i asked if i could come film them. We all know how that turned out. This was kind of a turning point. I hadn't really hung out with andrew the whole year, even though we talked in math class the year before. This was also about the time Keith and I had started talking more at lunch and becomign friends. So I've already talked about the whole adastra deal before in this journal, so I'll spare you the details. But hanging out with the band at andrew's house and going to shows really was probably the funnest point of this year.

So spring break rolled around, and it was eaisly the best one I've ever had. It started with Shane's party, which was seemingly one of the last times the whole group, subdivisions and all (god that sounds dumb, i'm sorry), hung out together. Then I got to do some riding around with the kerrs and noah going to see Fallen From the Sky. Because if you don't live for today...hey...hey...hey...you'll see there's no tomorrow. punk rawk. Then I had the shindig at my house, which was great. Showing donnie darko to the masses was nice, and just having all of my friends over was charming. Sort of was a defining example of how far i had come in one year.

The last nine weeks went by quite quickly. I guess i should mention the whole girl situation, but what is there to say? I shall never mention again to anyone if i find a girl attractive. Unless Queen Latifah shows up in my biology class next year. Then I might have to bring in the noise, and quite possibly the funk as well. I doremember how the last day felt so surreal. I just had the line "From the age of 20 to 22 I had 5 friends; none of whose names I can recall" from Spider in the Snow in my head all day. Kind of eerie.

So as I finish up this recollection, I think about all the people I met and/or became friends with this year. Cary is quite possibly the smartest kid I know, and also one of the few kids who shares any musical interest with me. He is also maybe the only kid who was consistently nice to me everyday this year, even when i probably acted like a douchebag to him. And yes, I listenend to all the tapes you made me. Ian is a great kid. Very hyper, but still a funny guy. The time he walked into the band room in a speedo and the look on ms stoneman's face was quite possibly the funniest thing of this whole year I saw. Sara B. and Abby. Good girls. Their emo shit is grating on my ears. But math class was awesome with you guys, and i enjoyed making mix cds for you sara and having abby cut my leg hair. Well, i didnt like that very much, but still. Devin would easily take the cake as nicest kid I've ever met. And he's a damn good Marty McFly as well. Holly...what a fatass. Krystal is crazy. But she is also smart and interesting to talk to. Her, Heather and Sammy K. are the best fanclub noah could ever have. I enjoyed leaving class to go hang with them at lunch. Lil Dan is probably the kid I acted like the biggest douche too this year, and I felt bad about it. But we kind of made up, and allow him to call me 20 times a day without hanging up on him that often. Brian Egan is my favorite 1970's date rapist ever. Seriously. Maria is a girl who was nice to talk to during the second semester. She likes Donnie Darko, which rocks. Keep that boyfriend of yours too; he's a damn nice guy as well. Ryan Nagel was already a friend from middle school, but i got to know him a lot better this year. I maybe never smiled wider than the day two weeks ago when we were walking to the buses and he told me that he didn't hate his life anymore, because of the friends he had gained this year. Austin pelalla...so hot. I was digging this kid before it was cool to dig him. Which doesn't mean shit i guess, except to me. Best freshman in my opinion. I should feel bad about always making fun of Lizzie McGuire in front of Shane, but i don't. He's a good guy though; I promise him that I will get him his Hilary by the time I graduate. Jake Biel...so money. Anca and Arianne both scare me. I think they would appreciate me saying that. A.J, band class was not the same without you. Keep up the heroin; if not for you, than for your kids. Vivi...you are still a good friend in my book. Even though the wasabi was a little harsh. Sharif could most definitely beat me up. Thanks for refraining from doing so for a large portion of the year. Twister10 is probably the best relationship sara ever thought i had. Dave, you are the only kid who loves Madden as much as I do. The Garbarinos and the Kerrs...what can i say about you. Andrew, you are one of the few kids that I like hanging out with, and definitely one of the only people who I can deal with being made fun of by. The fat joke war Keith and I had this year were classic. Thanks for all the rides Ben, and for not holding my Tenacious D liking from freshman year against me. And Noah is one of the few kids who has been a friend since my freshman year. The nights spent with you guys made my year, not kidding.

Well, now that I mentioned every kid ever, I can wrap it up. Am I happier now than I was a year ago? More so than you could imagine. And that's what counts, right? Well, actually, money, penis size, and hair are what really count. But happiness would definitely be in the top-ten things that count. It might sneak into the top-5, but that's doubtful.

much love

drew r.

I really need to stop listening to the Smiths late at night, or I'm going to kill myself.

I Know It's Over

Oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
and as I climb into an empty bed
oh well, enough said
I know it's over still I cling
I don't know where else I can go, mother

Oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
see, the sea wants to take me
the knife wants to slit me
do you think you can help me?

Sad veiled bride, please be happy
handsome groom, give her room
loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly
although she needs you more than she loves you

And I know it's over
still I cling
I don't know where else I can go
it's over, it's over, it's over

I know it's over
and it never really began
but in my heart it was so real
and you even spoke to me and said:

"If you're so funny
then why are you on your own tonight?
and if you're so clever
then why are you on your own tonight?
if you're so very entertaining
then why are you on your own tonight?
if you're so very good looking
why do you sleep alone tonight?
I know because tonight is just like any other night
that's why you're on your own tonight
with your triumphs and your charms
while they are in each other's arms"

It's so easy to laugh
it's so easy to hate
it takes strength to be gentle and kind
it's over, over, over

It's so easy to laugh
it's so easy to hate
it takes guts to be gentle and kind
it's over, over, over

Love is natural and real
but not for you, my love
not tonight my love
love is natural and real
but not for such as you and I, my love

Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head