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Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Happy Halloween!






Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Skull ring

The past few days we have been rained in because of Sandy. Tomorrow is Halloween and to get into the spirit I put in my skull ring.


Sunday, October 28, 2012

Halloween Party

Last night Jeremy, Christina and I went to the Note in West Chester to see Splintered Sunlight. It was an awesome time. :)


The Album (which will be updated again on Halloween with the awesome pictures I get from that day): Halloween 2012


And our breakfast tomorrow, which I jokingly called "our post-hang over celebration meal" (Christina snickered):


Sunday, October 21, 2012

Milwaukee Pie


Milwaukee Pie
Reds and oranges burst through the crisp Milwaukee night air. My first baseball game has ended—the Brewers beat the Phillies. The father and his son, realizing I was alone, high-fived me as we all smiled. “Did you have a nice first baseball game,” he yells over the roaring and cheering of the crowd. “YES!” I yell back.

The hustle and bustle of people and cars around Miller Park puts me in a daze. In a half an hour, Miller Park will be dead again, only to come alive tomorrow night for the final game against the Phillies. Main Entrance. I stand in front of the main entrance, where the driver of the Steppy’s shuttle bus told us to wait a few hours before when he dropped us off. I have forgotten my Packers sweatshirt; all that I am in is a homemade Brewers shirt (that read “Brewers; GO! GO! GO! FIGHT! Make the Phillies eat dirt) and ripped jeans. It had to be at least fifty degrees outside.

I see a group of men huddled a few feet away from me. “Are you waiting for the Steppy’s shuttle bus,” I ask them as I walk up to them. “Yeah,” their teeth chatter. I wait with them and try to start conversation. I am too shy, though, and stand there waiting. But, then alas, we see a white van with Steppy’s in bright red cursive lettering (that glows in the night sky) pulls up.

“A long, long time ago”, the speakers crack as Don McLean’s voice trickles out; we are tiredly sitting on the comfortable tan leather cushions. A blonde hair girl smiles and starts blurting out, half drunk, “I can still remember how that music used to make me smile.”

The engine revs up and soon the lights of Milwaukee’s night life flashes around us. The half-drunk girl that reminds me of my friend’s sister continues singing now with her friends. They’re getting louder and louder.

“And I knew if I had my chance that I could make those people dance,” they’re almost screaming and it is infectious because more and more of the half-drunk people in the shuttle began to sing. You can tell this song is a popular favorite among people; the shuttle bus now turns into a karaoke bar.

The shuttle bus makes some turns and we hold onto the seats, but I am still mortified to sing. The blonde leans her head in, almost forgetting the words until Don McLean starts, “But February—“ and the girl screams out the rest of the line “made me shiver” and yells the next line too. This time, however, more and more people are starting to join in. The shuttle bus shakes with the voices; it takes me under and I can’t help to start and sing.

I sing as we make a left on one of the side streets. Signs flash and the bars are alive as well as the streets in front of the bars. Milwaukee is such a busy town, but I suppose any city is. As we all hold onto our seats because the ride is so bumpy, we all scream “BYE, BYE MISS AMERICAN PIE; DROVE MY CHEVY TO THE LEVY, BUT THE LEVY WAS DRY” with the blonde finishing and cheering with a fake beer bottle in hand; she smiles as she wails “This’ll be the day that I die.” We sing the chorus over and over; we’re happy that the Brewers won and just for the spirit of the night.
But, then the shuttle driver turned the station. I suppose he was tired of us badly singing such a classic. Yet, to his surprise we sing along with the lead of the blonde.
“Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world,” and the older folks riding with us start singing along. We are screaming along with Journey by the time the shuttle pulls into Steppy’s.

I step out and with both American Pie and Don’t Stop Believin’ in my head, I sing along with a whiskey seven and write it down for one of the best nights of my life.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

67

#67

 A walk by the window, my sixty-seven,
 with football in hand, iPod in ear;
it must be like a blissful heaven--
oblivious to the world, when I am near.
Alas, like a flower in bloom,
new, fresh to the touch, I hold you--
the heavens sing joyful hymns and booms;
however, I still feel ever so blue.
Yet, your eye flickers my way,
 in the hustle and bustle of a crowd,
sidelined, an injury delays--
a wave spotted among the fury and sound.
 Football in hand, the minute strike eleven,
a possible victory, how I love sixty-seven.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Longwood Gardens with Christina and the family

Today my family, Christina and I went to Longwood Gardens. It was beautiful, a lot of fun and I took many great pictures. Let me share. :)


I took some more Christmas pictures: I'm thinking the one above I'm going to frame for my cousin Matthew. What do you think? 


Which do you like best?

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Football Pictures

Today I went to my school's football game. We left 4th quarter because they were winning 41-6, so I'm sure the final score had to be up there. Anyway, I took pictures. I have three that really speak to me, which one do you like best that I can matte for my cousin?



I like them all, but what do you think?

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Two Poems

Last night I went to a poetry reading at my school. The speaker was Eric Chappell. He inspired me. :) Here are two poems I just wrote:

The Poet

The poet sits
with quill in hand,
in the quiet corner,
his feet on firm land.

The poet writes
on the Steno pad,
submerged in water,
dreams of a wee lad.

The poet sees,
sloppy words on paper,
complications of life,
clouds and butterflies taper.

The poet reads
from his beloved book,
head above the clouds,
not a single breath took.
------------------------------------------

The Piercing Shop
Located loudly on the corner,
next to the skate shop;
punks in plaid pants
and black goth band tops.
They walk through the door,
below a black sign,
∞ a secret code in white--
at the glass counter, a line.

Located loudly on the corner,
bikes littered in front;
hoardes of people sit on the bench,
waiting through lines to punt
into the four rooms,
painted purple or blue
where you will be fitted
by men and women tattooed.

Located loudly on the corner,
the hustle and bustle in punk city;
a felt pen; lines of dark blue,
marks the ear, nose, whatever, itty bitty.
The needle is sterilized,
alcohol scented, breathe in and out;
the needle pierces through--
but you don't scream or shout.

Located loudly on the corner,
next to the skate shop,
bikes littered in front,
on the graffitied blacktop.
Satisified, a hefty sum in cash,
feet shuffle and dance, the sting drowned,
on the streets of the hustle and bustle
in the paradise that is a punk rock town.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

What do you think?

I am going to add some more, but what do you think?

Well, I walk upon the river like it's easier than land. Alone. Littered among her were people, drunk people, sober people, all people glowed in the dark as the Corona or Bud Light or Miller neon lights shone down upon them. Alone. That's all that she felt, alone among the people. The band was playing, the guitars were humming, the basses were blaring and the drums droned. Tonight was the night that her beau played. Well, technical he wasn't her beau, but it was her fantasy. Loneliness laughed at her.

His friends sat at the other end of the bar. They were watching his band play. "We're going to play for you, a cover by the Tallest Man on Earth," his brother had said into the mic. She wasn't paying attention, her attention was on his friends that sat there, half drunk. They were too far, a distance that seemed like eternity, that even when sober they wouldn't notice her. They never noticed her, unless they wanted to pick on her, that's how it was in grade school.

Trembling, her knees became weak, yet her legs still raced up and down; she wished she could run. They scared her. You're a psycho, they yell out in the halls, just look at you, you're psychotic. You can't do anything right and you creep people out. No one likes you, just stay away from people. The words stabbed her heart ten times over. Alone. She shivered as the cold December air blew on her. Someone had just walked through the door and joined the crowd of people drinking to their good times; no one was drinking to their sorrows, time was too good for that. She watched from the dark corner, the bright lights and tears blurred out the shadows of those monsters.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Dad's 57th Birthday

Today was dad's 57th birthday and we celebrated with a dinner and cake.









Love is All (plan)

I decided to start from scratch. Here is a little of what I've written so far, but it's going to change a little.


Well, I walk to Earth like it's easier than land. Alone. Littered among her were people, drunk people, sober people, all people glowed in the dark as the Corona or Bud Light or Miller neon lights shone down upon them. Alone. That's all that she felt, alone among the people. The band was playing, the guitars were humming, the basses were blaring and the drums droned. Tonight was the night that her beau played. Well, technical he wasn't her beau, but it was her fantasy. Loneliness laughed at her.

She had been Facebook friends with him since the beginning of Facebook. She doesn't remember when his blue eyes, pale white skin and dirty blonde hair took her heart hostage, but she sat longingly at the computer. He had went to New York for college. He was 600 miles away and that pained her. She buried him out of her mind for awhile--ignoring the floods of invites to concerts in New York. Threshold of Pain. Who was Threshold of Pain? She supposed it was his band (it was, she later learned). She didn't drive, she couldn't go. Until one day he appeared back in Wisconsin and the magic invite came, inviting her to the local bar. Her desire had been awaken.

"I went to summer camp with you," she had said awkwardly a year and a half ago. She was tipsy, but nervous. She was newly 21; she was still learning the ropes, but in this sense with her nervousness, it wasn't mixing well. We used to be friends, she almost said, but took it back before it slipped out of her mouth. Her face was a tomato red and sweat pertruded or felt like it was rushing down her forehead.

"Yeah, I remember going to that camp. We all went to that camp," three other guys joined in, standing next to him. They were all blonde-haired, had blue eyes and wore flannel (he wore red, the guitarist wore blue, the singer wore green and the bassist wore white) and jeans. Staring into the blue of his eyes, her heart beats uncontrollably  It was loud and it made her paranoid.


Tuesday, October 2, 2012

A Contest


Yesterday I bought the t-shirt to my costume. I'm going to be a monster and will be designing a jersey for me to wear as that monster. I'm looking for a name to put on the back of the jersey and I need your help. You have until October 15th to help me with a name and whoever has the best name will win a Halloween prize. :)
Thanks.