|now candy|

I just cleaned the bathtub.

Exciting.

No, but the exciting part is this: I can go to The Dismemberment Plan show. If you live within driving distance of DC, you should go.

They will be here.

You will never have another chance. Unless they reunite after they break up. This is already their encore last show.

1. You throw junk out.
2. You box the rest of the junk for yet another move.
3. It weirds your cats out.
4. Going away parties.
5. It's a winning excuse to eat take-out food for a week.
6. Your friends bring you their left-over take-out food because the movers took your pots & pans.
7. You acknowledge to yourself that you haven't used your pots & pans in the last four months (except the one that lives on the stove top for cooking tofu dogs).
8. You learn you actually do have a hand mixer.
9. The food that moved from the last house gets thrown out.
10. Tape.
11. Free tape left over from the movers.
12. Free scissors left behind from the last move's movers.

Packing sucks. Actually, I like packing. Making as much stuff as possible fit into impossibly small volumes is the best game. However, making all the random shit you've been procrastinating fit into a few boxes you've especially reserved for this sucks. Small bags of catnip, spatulas, cd cases, the budget ledger, borrowed books that haven't been returned yet (mostly since the aren't read yet, but also from uberprocrastination), match books, wigs, the accordion, etc. This is the point when things have the best chance of meeting the trash can.

Now is good. The Heebro is probably still walking to his house, from mine. I knew I would be up until early:thirty tonight, I just didn't realize it would be in my own living room talking, surfing, listening, eating chinese food, smoking with a dear friend. I sort of pictured Leatha Weapon and me dancing until they kick us out where ever we ended up. I still haven't really recovered from last night, though. My legs cried walking up two flights of stairs at work today, and when almost-midnight rolled around I noticed my second wind was probably going to hold out until tomorrow. Slipper slide-dancing on these hard wood floors last night apparently was more of a workout than I had realized.

But the Heebro is probably already home and thinking about whatever it is he thinks about when he walks into his house. He might be thinking about rolling a cigarette, which is pretty much what I'm thinking about now, now that I have papers again. We both have some driving to do this weekend. His is a round trip, mine is a little more one way.

MARTHA.pdf is a great file name.

I'm listening to a special mix tape made for me this past Monday. I keep coming back to Think, track 28. The entire burn is a testament to everything that matters. Track 28 poignantly testifies to the way it is, and at the near-close of the song I've found my mantra for the moment:

And although this may have to end, I hope I'm always with you
Honestly your friend

At least that's the mantra that I'll share. There's a few more in there.

Everything that matters. A few, in no particular order: Bob Dylan, chocolate, ceiling fans, saying what's on your mind, one night stands, heading to Boulder, lyrics you can't quite make out, being on someone's mind, 7 friends crammed in the car, laughing, acoustic guitar music, love, covers by bands who rock, people who make you hot, feedback, John Wayne, syncopation, fire, being on fire, standing in the yard, love, shiny things, future that hasn't happened yet, off the hook, hands, child bearing hips, running from dogs & women, harmonicas, sweet pretty country acid house music, consciousness expansion, covers of bands that no has heard of by bands that no one has heard of (thanks David), truth, love that'd be easier if the world was impossibly simplistic, staying young.

Who knew that all these things could be fit into one mix tape. And into one summer.

Here it is. 48 hours from now I'll be in Pittsburgh. 24 hours ago I was in a small establishment that serves alcohol to people so they will go upstairs and listen to the band. It worked pretty well for us, we even danced. And I got served a lot of alcohol. It's a good Thursday night when you are still awake when your alarm goes of for you to get up and go to work. Thanks Lisa and everyone who came.

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The above was post #1. Ever.

I've come back and edited to give a short...

::FAQ for why this blog exists::

Q1. Why the name "|now candy|"?

A1. Because I went to Blogger.com to look into starting a blog. I ended up starting one right then and "now candy" is what I thought of. Later I added the | on both ends to look stylish.

Q2. How do you pronounce that?

A2. With the same inflection as "mind candy" but say "now" instead of "mind."

Q3. This blog is f*cking themeless! Why should I read it?

A3. Maybe you shouldn't. And it's spelled "fucking."

Q4. Why did you start this useless blog ramble?

A4. Well, it's not useless for me–it provides great entertainment for me when I see folks I actually don't know hit the site. It also give friends a chance to see what I'm doing as I move around the country.

Q5. What?

A5. Think of it as a popularity contest. One that doesn't matter for anything other than entertainment.

Q6. Are you a real person? Or are you a greasy 65-year old man?

A6. What? Greasy old men are not real people? I don't lie on the blog. I actually live in the town I say I do and I actually do wear glasses.

Q7. Can I use your pictures?

A7. No. Unless you would like to pay me money. However, I may change my mind; please e-mail me if you would like to use my pictures AND wait for a reply from me. Thanks.

Thank you for reading this and please e-mail me if you have any questions. E-mail link can be found in the sidebar under the "e-write" link. Or you can use the commenter thingie.

Thanks and enjoy.
mm