Sixfoot6.com - Putting Stuff Away.

On the 8th day of rain, things change. What had been physical adaptation, locational adaptation now gives way to emotional adaptation. The head starts to change baselines, the heart starts to actually believe the sun has left our lives, we'll live life this way from now on, a narrower amplitude of pleasure, gray and green like we're locked in a closet. Locked on Venus while the flowers bloom somewheres else.

There's so much fucking spring outside I can taste it.

I've gotta say, the President's Oval office speech on immigration actually made me feel proud to be an American again, for a few short moments. I'm not entirely convinced that sending National Guard to our southern border will accomplish much, but I was moved by Bush's plea for patience and rational thought, his reminders that we're all immigrants, and his proposal to give illegals a road to citizenship.

It's been a long time since I remember having so many exciting ideas bouncing around in my head all at the same time. Whether I'll able to act on many of them I'm not sure, but at 28 it feels like my brain is finally hitting its creative stride.

Here's a small pet-peeve of mine: people who don't use question marks at the end of questions when writing email. Does that bother you, too. Is the problem that they're in too much of a hurry. Doesn't it make people sound like they're not even listening to themselves. Mark my words: LACK OF QUESTION MARKS IS THE NEW ALL-CAPS.

Hey, in honor of these cloudy, rainy days, who wants a present? The first three people with valid email addresses who ask for it win a present. Don't bother if you're a super close friend of mine.