all is fair in love, and we're in love.



the move to the new blog has begun. there will be nothing new here. the future will occur at

all is fair in love, and we're in love.

new website--please update.


the horses used to run faster

my horse lost the ky derby. i thought buzzard's bay would pull through in the end, but no. i should have expected this.

sarah silently returned the spare key to me, while scott told me half a story about a dead raccoon. i wish this metaphor made more sense.

sloane and david met me for coffee, and introduced me to her hot friend. i wish i wasn't so shy all of the time.

everyone at the bar is drinking mint juleps. i remember my grandmother, smoking cigarettes and watching the horses. i wish that poem wasn't about you.

crushing defeat at windswept fields.

so, i now have a weekly tennis date. the joy that this brings me is beyond explanation, especially since monster plays just like me, with lots of cursing and a minimum amount of skill. we played yesterday afternoon, and then had a post-tennis beer, during which i told everyone at the bar that i had kicked her ass, which may or may not have actually been true. the truth is so arbitrary, these days.

so i know that blog posts have been less frequent lately. i'm just going through a transition of sorts, point a to point d, i think, and don't really know how to document the in between. there is a chance that the new blog will be live as soon as tonight, which will make things much more interesting. if you go to, all of your wildest dreams will come true.

i am realizing that making new friends is going to have to be a priority this summer. yes, i have friends, but may of them are leaving for central america and points north and west of here. i feel that i've done some good work reclaiming some friends i lost, so we'll see if i can continue that and turn it into something bigger better faster more.

heading out to get lunch at maartens... i'll be back, with more different stories to tell, and more and more and more and more and more.


WHEREAS, Uncle Rico's football skills are a testament to Idaho athletics

the scariest thing is that i think that this is actually real. this is too good to be true. i now have faith in government again, finally.

more possible new blog titles... seriously, vote!

i think those are the final three contenders... please, someone pick the one that they like most. i love them all very very very very much.

writing about writing about writing.

so, i had a conversation with rusty the other day about how i have become so entwined with my blog that i, from time to time, do things specifically to write about them in my blog, so that they will make interesting entries. i realized as i was having this conversation with him that i was doing that also solely to write about it later. my life has become more meta than meta. it's funny. when i was a kid, i would have thought that i would be continually trying to become more metal than metal. just drop the l, little michael.

i share a birthday with several individuals. my friend margaret from high school, my friend rob from the bar, sadaam hussein, and now, brynn's new horse. not a bad bunch of folks. i would gladly be smoked out of any spiderhole to get together with at least two or three of those people.

my new blog will have comments. meta-meta will definitely be one of them. okay, off to do more laundry and preparing to ignore someone. rock.


so, some of you may have noticed that i kind of stopped writing in here for a while. it wasn't deliberate, i've just been busy. i've been catching up on emails and age. at some point thursday, i turned twenty four. it was nice. my friends bought me shots of jager. i don't know how many i had. somewhere between nine and fifteen. there is still some discussion as to the precise number. it was good to be around the people that i love.

friday, to celebrate my birthday, j took me and eric and kaitlyn to his friend's apple store, and loaded us up with goodies. i am so so so lucky to have friends like this. also, i am so lucky to see the faces on the apple store employees when j just walked into the back room, and the manager didn't mind. it's nice to have such strange experiences every now and again.

so, there is a small chance that the blog may go on hiatus for a while. i am contemplating making it a real blog, buying a domain name and some server space, and learning to use movable type. wouldn't that be killer? if anyone has any suggestions for a domain name, please let me know. it's either going to be, or they both mean so much to me. there is another possibility,, but i haven't checked to see if that domain is available. hmm, sounds like a project for tonight.

i am in a sticky situation with an amazing girl. there are two sides to this coin, the what-i-want side, and the what-i-have-to-do side. it keeps landing on the edge. is there any middle ground? doesn't look like it.

well, yes, i'm back. i have a real entry i've been working on in my moleskine; that will probably be posted later tonight. sorry for any delays.



mole-blogged, maartens, 7:10pm

so there are two couples i always see in maartens, sitting at the corner of the bar. they meet here every night, it seems, and tell stories about their neighbors, lawnmowers, and the other things that homeowners that drink nightly complain about. the women smoke cigarettes--one of them drinks only champagne. they laugh such that the entire bar laughs with them.

the point of this? i want to someday have someone that will come here with me and do this.


until then, i laugh with them.


real-blogged, home, 1:41am

my interweb is down. i just got back from mellow mushroom with eric. we talked about trusting people, web design, girls that fucked us over, fourteen piece ska bands, and why we both use Canons. i finally got to apologize to him, and it felt good. also, i was drinking, so that had a lot to do with it. i need to get my interweb back. blogging must be done!!!


pbr for the course

there may or may not be a colony of wasps building a nest in the gap between the inner and outer glass of my bedroom window. the uncertainty comes from the fact that i am too scared to open the blinds. let's look at this as metaphor, perhaps. i know what is happening in the world around me, but if i don't look, i can pretend i am not sure.

my daily routine of writing in here before i fall asleep has come to a halt, somehow. it's not because i have less to say--i think it has more to do with how i have less that i want to say to the world. the fusion of public and private that i strived to maintain here doesn't really work all of the time, especially when you are paranoid, like i am. also, the wasps limit my sleep, what with the incessant buzzing; EDIT--the buzzing in the wall that is possibly being caused by the colony of wasps. sigh, might better.

i've been spending time with majkin again, which has been perfect. it feels like that strange pause in our friendship never happened. we find places to sit outside on uncomfortable iron chairs and drink. we talk about lawn sports and criteria lists, and how living situations are never as great as we hope. i hope to regain BFFFF status.

the countdown begins--one week until i am... older. i'm thinking about getting a few kegs of PBR for the house, or having people meet at maartens. in any event, it will be called 'michael's birthday PBRty.' sigh. so clever.

i found these drawings of proposed soviet buildings from the late twenties and early thirties, and i want to show them to brynn. i need to get on that. she's the only person i know who might actually appreciate that.

so, i am going to take my not blogging freqently, garlic smelling, disappointed in the abilities of other people to return phone calls self out to get some coffee, some food, and a drink. my weekend starts now, and will never end, well, until sunday.


she's a jellyfish.

so. night out with majkin was extraordinary. we had bistro adventures, talked about pests in our homes, went to starbucks and the lucky, and skipped like school girls down university avenue.

talked to rae and sloane on phone, two of my favorite people. on phone with rae, i talked about my birthday resolution, to accept that there is nothing wrong with never finding the one. she asked me why i felt that this would never happen, and i told her this, that i had found the one, and that she wasn't interested. there is no episode of sex and the city to explain this.

i am writing a screenplay, based on text messages and the last 5 months of my life. it is semi-autobiographical--the same outcomes, but done more poetically.

i can't wait for summer, and i am dreading it. the roots of my life here will be leaving, and i will be staying, uprooted. i need a plan. i am fortunate, though, to have an unexpected brother/long lost cousin here.

also, i am giving up, and succumbing to sleep.



i wrote a new poem, and i am kind of upset by it. a month or so ago, i thought that i had a muse; rather, it seems that i have found some sort of unholy poetic succubus. poems about arnold stop being about arnold, but become about her, and i don't want them to, but they do. my own words betray me. his words become hers, the lines that i wake up thinking after i dream of him coming home are replaced into her lips.

but at least i am writing.

i have this constant fear that someday a friend will describe me as a 'former poet.' i would rather write poems about her that upset me than not be able to write anymore, again. in the end, we are our art.

hipster fidelity

so, i can't sleep, and i am doing what i usually do during periods of insomnia... thinking.

what does it all mean? katherine wanted to be with kevin, and not me. allison wanted to be with erik, and not me. stefanie--bless her heart, i can say nothing bad about her, but for the sake of listing major exes and almost-exes, she's here. brynn wanted to be with trevor, and not me. sloane wanted to be with dave, and not me. mollie wanted to be with jordan, and not me. sarah wanted to be with eric and alone and with brandon, and not me.

i am frequently told how nice i am, how this and that i am. everyone thinks this is a good thing. lady macbeth thought her husband had been spoiled by the milk of human goodness. i think i had a soy version of that milk, and i have been spoiled to niceness, and by niceness.

so, i am going to take arnold's advice. from now on, i will be mean to girls, and perhaps they will like me more. i will yell into telephones that i do not play games. i will check out other girls, including her friends, and my roommate's girlfriend. i will talk about 'pulling mad bitches when i move to cali.' i mean, these things work for arnold, and beds of poison ivy and such. we all need a little more of don solomon in the world.


free meal at bistro, just for knowing how to cut and paste? i am king.

why do i continue to care? maybe that's all i can do.


death & taxes has been replaced by taxes, then death.

this morning...
in the movie of my life, it would have gone more like this.

S: so... you bought me coffee, brought me breakfast, drove me to class... why are you doing this? i thought i broke your heart.
M: don't worry... it's still breaking.

also, today i paid for the deaths of three innocent iraqi children. great.

i have six new archival pens.

for my sister, providence. i hope that she is ready for four years of the same ani song being on every mix cd.

one more thing... does he wear the backwards baseball cap in bed? does he turn it around? is there a certain etiquette for this? are you really who you say you are?

moleblogged quote--
carly: i remember everything until...
michael: remembering is overrated.

4am addition--i am turning off the text message feature of my phone ASAP. too scary.