On the Chin

I'm not gonna lie. The past few days were hard on the body. I had a blast but now it's time to slow down a bit. Read some books, watch some documentaries, finish a few projects. Lay off the sauce for a while. It's the ebb and flow of life, and each new phase helps the next story. It's the way it's always been for me.

I just feel better equipped to deal with the muck.

Bought a friend a book tonight at Border's, one I had recommended a long time ago but know she hasn't picked up yet. I hope she's as stoked as I am about it. Of course, I always feel required to purchase something for myself too, so the trip wasn't purely philanthropic. Luckily, I remembered to get Miranda July's new book, No One Belongs Here More Than You. One of my favorite short stories ever, The Shared Patio, opens the collection. I'm trying not to get too excited but I can never contain myself.

Been listening to William Elliott Whitmore all night. Just sad, beautiful stuff. A friend from art school designed his first album cover, and one day he just handed it to me in the hallway, saying, you'll love this, and every so often - when I'm just in one of these moods - I bust it out, usually coming off a bender, and it resonates with this amazing clarity. If I could take you to the place this album has taken me tonight, I'd die a happy man.