It’s time for something real. Let me start with some acronyms.

FYI

1. I have probably already mentioned that I have now in my possession a viable DVD burner thanks to Sarah’s laptop. My own DVD drive has completely burned out on my desktop. Have I, sometime in the distant past, ever promised you a copy of a deustch_bag production? If I have, I can assure you that I don’t remember making the promise and if you will but remind me, I’d be thrilled to really burn you some of the goodies. Joie, in particular, comes to mind–and not just sexually.

(I have often though that if I were to make a short film on my own, it would be quite funny of me to merely call it a _bag production. But Xack, the deustch half, uses the whole thing when he works independently and ruins my fun.)

2. I’m getting more and more accustomed to the adultiness of life. Wearing nice clothes, in particular.

REO

REO stands for Real-estate owned. Principally I used the heading because I promised more than one acronym, and I always deliver–just ask Sarah. Secondly, I used it because it was a useful segue into my REORPG. Kind of like Tibia, but with real-life consequences and infinitely more interesting.

i.e. I’m going to talk about my housing shit now.

Things are ambiguous at best. It’s very difficult to find a house in a particular area, but on the flip side the housing situation is terrible and people are foreclosing at astronomical rates. Something literally opens up everyday. The trouble is, foreclosures are being snapped up like crumpets at tea time, and with Sarah and I leaving the cuntry–it might be late summer before we can find and close on a house.

Further in boring financial news, I have $2400 in $100 savings bonds. Don’t get excited, only two of them are matured so I have to wait years before I cash them. But that money’s going to help me out one day.

I Hate to Break It to You News Break:

1. John Dies at the End (johndiesattheend.com) by David Wong didn’t interest me terribly. Sorry, Billy.

2. I’ve set you up, Niedzielski: I put you as my “Favorite Music” on my facebook.com profile and urged everyone to google the shit out of you. Hope you brought your pooh-colored umbrella and galoshes: get ready for a shitstorm.

3. Brandon: I can’t sleep with you anymore.

4. Hailey: Brandon can’t sleep with you anymore.

5. It seems like you pretty much fucked up, Cody. If you had seen MSI abroad, we could have had a cool little MSI update center as they wound their way towards the main group. Consider: they were in Japan, where in a perfect world you would have seen them and delivered a highly detailed picto-textual post. Billy then is treated to a subsequent concert in Maryland, whereupon he gives a similar post. Finally, MSI makes it to Atlanta where the main contingent of the group sees and evaluates their performance. It would have been neat, is all I’m saying.

6. Xachary Christian Simms: I’m pretty sure you’re that “soybomb” douchebag. And I use the term loosely. And, admittedly, without having anything to back it up with. Also, you look like the Aryan version of Matt Le Blanc. Maybe change your icon?

7. Marc Berg. . .Ah, what the hell. You don’t read this website anymore than Sarah Ann Pool shaves her armpits. That’s a euphemism for “Sarah Ann Pool never shaves her armpits.”

Meritorious, or The Poetic Shitsterpiece

I had a very nice meeting with one of my all-time favorite professors, Dr. Aaij. We talked about me and my future for about 15 minutes, but the purpose of the meeting was to give me some certificates and a check. “A check?” You might be saying. Why, what a coincidence: That’s exactly what I said.

Dr. Aaij nominated an essay of mine ( a 14 page analytical doozy on Marlowe’s Dr. Faustus) for AUM’s prestigious Collections. The short version of the story is that I won first place, where previously (in 2005) I had only received an honorable mention. I won fifty dollars, but more importantly I have won my first real essay competition, an important one at that, and besides cleansing my shit from any smell for the next year, the win is going to look great on a resume. Especially as I pursue editing. I cannot express in this short paragraph the joy I felt I had finally having been validated. It’s all I’ve been talking about. Perhaps. . .Yes. A picture is worth a thousand words, isn’t it? Let me just show you the sheer joy:

Our friendly talk proceeded, and Dr. Aaij made me feel like a million bucks in a ten pound bag. He also mentioned that, while talking with another professor, he discovered that said professor has held on to an essay I wrote back when I was a sophomore because he was so impressed with it. And I’m just sitting there trying not to ejaculate prematurely.

People like my writing? Really? People keep my writing?

There’s lots of naughty imagery in this post, which makes me want to password protect it, but I might just leave it open because it is a very nice day outside, the wind’s a-blowing and it’s not too hot. And to just be validated over and over and over and over and over in work, school, life, relationships is something that needs to be reveled in because of the hard times to come. The dark loneliness and ugly solitude. Death, Cancer, bad haircuts (not listed in order of importance).

Le Cine

This section is less informative than it is a warning: When I’m filming this summer I’m pulling out all the stops. I’m going to be asking for a lot of favors; favors that will help me get some serious props/ settings dilemmas under control. This production is going to be big, it’s also going to be very filmic. You aren’t going to see the seams on this one, baby. But be ready! I will be calling you.

Perfunctory Cheesy Romantic Ending

Sarah Burnham, lovingly pictured below, remains foremost on my mind. Indeed, I blame her for my achievements and without her I’d come up short. In everything. I’m exceedingly fond of this woman.