i was too tired to do anything resembling something interesting last night. so what did i do instead? i played a semi-obscure, totally pointless SNES game called "final fantasy mystic quest"...which is basically a game that squaresoft (designers of the "final fantasy" series) created to entice stupid kids who weren't good enough at puzzles or thinking to play their RPGs.
yeah, i'm aware of how callous that sounded, but since i'm playing it now, i like to think that fact balances out my bristling.
then i watched "lars and the real girl", even though i had some serious reservations about ryan gosling. and just like every other time i seriously attempt to apply some gosling-hate, i was completely stymied by how awesome an actor he is. i have to really respect the fact that for a movie about a guy who falls in love with a plastic life-sized doll and then has an entire community rally around him and accept the doll as a "real" person, the filmmakers managed almost entirely - almost - to keep the film from being thorougly cheesy. there were only a few parts when i cringed. the woman who played margo was just the right mix of quirky and insistent that her attraction to lars totally made sense, despite the fact that it shouldn't have since nobody would be realistically interested in the lars we see for at least the first 30 minutes of the movie or so. the cinematography and the scenery in the film were great, and even the oft-cheesy "winter for the whole movie and then spring at the end during the conclusion/epiphany" trope wasn't overplayed. i really liked the fact that all throughout this was the type of movie that could have been played for cheap laughs or cheap melodrama, but the filmmakers simply treated it, well, simply...and let you make your own decisions. we need more movies like that.
the standout in the film for me (even more perhaps than ryan gosling) was emily mortimer, who as pretty much always did a great job and who portrayed this character who was just so beautiful (personality-wise) and caring and interesting that from the very first time she showed up on-screen at the beginning of the film, i wanted her to be in every single scene. very...um...how you say..."arresting" performance.
Aug 18, 2008
Aug 17, 2008
I AM...
not any more important than any other person...there is nothing that makes my thirteen million ranting blog-words about my feelings more important than anyone else's. that is the god-honest truth. but if you're here in spite of that, thank you. not because i need anybody to listen, but because it's fun to share. very fucking difficult sometimes, but fun too, and it's really the only way to grow out (instead of "growing up", which means a lot of things; some good things and some very, very shitty and fucked-up things that insecure people like to fixate on because they forgot how to have fun 30 years ago and now they're afraid and lonely in their little houses built of fear and loneliness and sometimes i really feel like i should be able to feel sorry for them, but sometimes it's just really hard because above all else, you really do do that sort of thing to yourself, regardless of what else happens to you without your permission).
that's life.
i do this because it helps me and i hope it helps others (but maybe it doesn't) and i really have no expectations beyond that. i would still do it if i was in a dark corner alone and there was no internet and i was john milton and my daughters were scribbling my insanity because i had no eyes left. because that's how i roll. because no matter what kind of good luck or bad luck you have, you yourself are ultimately responsible for what happens in your life and you have to deal with it, and i'm tired of building a legacy of fear and worry and fragile illusions of control when deep down i damn well know better; that all of that stuff makes you feel better right up and until it doesn't work anymore and then you've got nothing. so at least i've got my good old fucked-up self, at least i'm getting to know myself, and at least i'll be able to look in the mirror 30 years from now and recognize myself. as tiring as it is sometimes, it's worth it for that. and for the times when (as much less often as they might happen then they would if i was a hip 20-something problem drinker with fancy clothes and some panache and 6000 facebook friends) i hear another voice out there that sounds a little like the one in my head and a smile to myself and hope that maybe, occasionally, i make someone else feel that way too...and as much as i know i'm prepared at this point to be alone it's a great feeling for there to be times when i know i'm not. very cool.
and i'm really grateful to the people i know who are honest and straightforward and don't try to tell me what they think i want to hear or don't try to be somebody else for the sake of making things less complicated...a few of you have been really helpful lately while i've been working through some of this stuff. you know who you are. you're the kind of people that inspire me in the way i'm trying to inspire others. so thanks.
well, i'm about 5000 words into non-coherence at this point. so i'm stopping. for good. bon soir.
that's life.
i do this because it helps me and i hope it helps others (but maybe it doesn't) and i really have no expectations beyond that. i would still do it if i was in a dark corner alone and there was no internet and i was john milton and my daughters were scribbling my insanity because i had no eyes left. because that's how i roll. because no matter what kind of good luck or bad luck you have, you yourself are ultimately responsible for what happens in your life and you have to deal with it, and i'm tired of building a legacy of fear and worry and fragile illusions of control when deep down i damn well know better; that all of that stuff makes you feel better right up and until it doesn't work anymore and then you've got nothing. so at least i've got my good old fucked-up self, at least i'm getting to know myself, and at least i'll be able to look in the mirror 30 years from now and recognize myself. as tiring as it is sometimes, it's worth it for that. and for the times when (as much less often as they might happen then they would if i was a hip 20-something problem drinker with fancy clothes and some panache and 6000 facebook friends) i hear another voice out there that sounds a little like the one in my head and a smile to myself and hope that maybe, occasionally, i make someone else feel that way too...and as much as i know i'm prepared at this point to be alone it's a great feeling for there to be times when i know i'm not. very cool.
and i'm really grateful to the people i know who are honest and straightforward and don't try to tell me what they think i want to hear or don't try to be somebody else for the sake of making things less complicated...a few of you have been really helpful lately while i've been working through some of this stuff. you know who you are. you're the kind of people that inspire me in the way i'm trying to inspire others. so thanks.
well, i'm about 5000 words into non-coherence at this point. so i'm stopping. for good. bon soir.
okay, almost done here...
...lastly, i just want to say a little about sharing. i think just the act of sharing something that you've made is powerful in and of itself, and if nothing else i'd like to think that that act alone, regardless of what's being shared, can be inspiring.
there are so many people who get hung up on sharing. so many, and it just baffles me. i mean, the absolute only thing we know for sure about life is that you die at the end of it...and that's pretty fucking scary. and we all have that in common. yet, it seems like for the most part our day to day lives are an act of building our own pitiful little sandcastles in our corners and trying to keep other people from coming over and getting in the way or, god forbid, kicking the sand around. it's sad. i don't understand it.
what is there in sharing that's more horrifying to people than the idea of being alone? what could possibly be the downside to having an important thought or idea or insight and then deciding to talk to someone else about it? what's the downside of shared knowledge?
i guess i'm frustrated by this because i spent so many long years worrying about this exact thing, and then on the day, the fucking day i just decided not to anymore it was like storm clouds blowing away and uncovering the sun. it was that dramatic. and i see people all the time going through life day to day, just stomping on feelings and thoughts, and hiding, and repressing...and for awhile it's a forceful thing, and then all of a sudden it seems like a lot of people reach a day where it's not even a conscious process anymore. being shut up inside yourself becomes reflexive, and they're not even aware they're doing it. i don't know. i don't understand.
if you are who you are, does it really matter what other people think of that? if you're only other choice is to just hide any bit of originality or emotion or brilliance you have to share with the world so that nobody ever has a chance to ridicule it...doesn't seem like much of a choice...
well, i got sort of derailed by an inability to coherent articultate (boo-ya), perhaps due to lack of caffeine...but i guess my point was that i hope, constantly, that by sharing i can inspire other people to do the same, while at the same time knowing that i can't expect that because that would be unfair. so many people (including me) are just so afraid a lot of the time, but instead of sharing that burden and shouldering it together, people get hooked on materialism, or TV, or alcohol, or shallow friendships/shallow sex relationships and things like that...i mean there's nothing wrong with the fact that not everybody wants to paint their own naked body on a street corner in new york and not everybody wants to constantly be around people...i myself have a low tolerance for socializing. it's just that when isolation, zombification, etc. are choices made out of fear, instead of as an educated alternative...
it all comes back to fear, i suppose. and overcoming that. and people thinking they have to overcome it alone. it's easier if we don't, i think. group work, people. it's not just for hippies anymore.
there are so many people who get hung up on sharing. so many, and it just baffles me. i mean, the absolute only thing we know for sure about life is that you die at the end of it...and that's pretty fucking scary. and we all have that in common. yet, it seems like for the most part our day to day lives are an act of building our own pitiful little sandcastles in our corners and trying to keep other people from coming over and getting in the way or, god forbid, kicking the sand around. it's sad. i don't understand it.
what is there in sharing that's more horrifying to people than the idea of being alone? what could possibly be the downside to having an important thought or idea or insight and then deciding to talk to someone else about it? what's the downside of shared knowledge?
i guess i'm frustrated by this because i spent so many long years worrying about this exact thing, and then on the day, the fucking day i just decided not to anymore it was like storm clouds blowing away and uncovering the sun. it was that dramatic. and i see people all the time going through life day to day, just stomping on feelings and thoughts, and hiding, and repressing...and for awhile it's a forceful thing, and then all of a sudden it seems like a lot of people reach a day where it's not even a conscious process anymore. being shut up inside yourself becomes reflexive, and they're not even aware they're doing it. i don't know. i don't understand.
if you are who you are, does it really matter what other people think of that? if you're only other choice is to just hide any bit of originality or emotion or brilliance you have to share with the world so that nobody ever has a chance to ridicule it...doesn't seem like much of a choice...
well, i got sort of derailed by an inability to coherent articultate (boo-ya), perhaps due to lack of caffeine...but i guess my point was that i hope, constantly, that by sharing i can inspire other people to do the same, while at the same time knowing that i can't expect that because that would be unfair. so many people (including me) are just so afraid a lot of the time, but instead of sharing that burden and shouldering it together, people get hooked on materialism, or TV, or alcohol, or shallow friendships/shallow sex relationships and things like that...i mean there's nothing wrong with the fact that not everybody wants to paint their own naked body on a street corner in new york and not everybody wants to constantly be around people...i myself have a low tolerance for socializing. it's just that when isolation, zombification, etc. are choices made out of fear, instead of as an educated alternative...
it all comes back to fear, i suppose. and overcoming that. and people thinking they have to overcome it alone. it's easier if we don't, i think. group work, people. it's not just for hippies anymore.
using RA as a jumping-off point (again)...
...for some semi-random comments.
i've always been concerned, perhaps overly so (i often am), with other people's perceptions of me. for a long time it was regarding crazy things like appearance, personality, hairstyle, voice, etc. i got over that years ago when it turned out that the amount of effort necessary to assuage my concerns was enough that it would have literally been impossible to care about myself that much every day and still be a human being. so i just stopped. it was simple math, the easiest kind of justification.
so now, in a weird one-eighty, i do all kinds of weird stuff. i write rampantly and semi-coherently in a blog about my life that friends, family, co-workers, my bosses, my professors, my ex-students, my current students, my ex-girlfriends, people who i hope might someday be my girlfriend, and tons of people i've never met before in my life have access to. i write poems, i write songs and sing and play them, i occasionally try to draw or paint something (though that never goes well), i make weird shit out of random textiles to hang on my walls, i write books and stories and plays and rants and pretty much whatever else the fuck comes out of my head, and sometimes i even post it all on youtube.
and i don't worry about what people think of any of that. i occasionally worry about crossing this or that particular personal boundary with this or that person; anybody who's the least bit considerate sometimes worries about that. but i don't worry if anybody "likes" what i do. i worry, instead, about what people might think of how i present all of the random things that spill out of my head. oddly, i worry that people won't understand that i'm not worried. i worry that people will see my music, or my writing, or whatever, or just the pretty fucking direct and personal way i usually conduct myself and think i'm doing it to provoke some kind of reaction. like my display of art or life or whatever is meant to attract others' interest. because that's not the case.
there's so much attention-seeking behavior going on out there, though, that it's hard i guess to blame people for assuming by default that that's why anyone would share a song (because they want a record deal, or want more hits on their myspace profile, or want to bask in the miasma of faceless internet comments). i don't really do any of the stuff i do for that reason though. even though a lot of times it's hard to share any kind of art with people (getting up in front of people and playing music? music that actually means something to you when most of the people "listening" aren't even there to hear you in the first place? that's pretty tough stuff), i've found in the last few years that sharing is a self-reinforcing process. it never really gets any easier, but it makes more and sense to me that it's the thing to do.
for me one of the biggest blessings and the biggest curses of the internet age is this ability to pretty much share anything, anywhere, anytime. it brings the attention-seekers out of the woodwork, the people who aren't happy with themselves so they want to impress someone else with something and then draw from that, like a vampire or something, until it's dry. then they move on. at the same time i can throw up any writing or music or video i want on this screen for free and there's no obligation on my part, there's no obligation on the audience's part. they choose to look and the worst they're going to lose for it is a few minutes of their time.
so i can sit here and post weird video after weird video, and post demos of songs that still have a whole verse of just filler words, just to get something out there, just to get it out of my head and into the world. because that's really the reason i do all this stuff when i could just be watching TV or playing nintendo or catching up on my RSS reader. because life is hard, and complicated, and if you're paying attention there's a lot of sorting, and thinking, and airing out of dirty laundry to do. and the best way for me to deal with all that stuff is to make the kinds of things i make. to be able to take things out of my head that might be too dark or too bright for words and put them into something and let them out so they're not rattling around in there so loudly anymore. if anyone ever thinks it's for anything other than that (like the desire to be a famous author or a rock star or something) then they're wrong. my inspiration for the things i write, etc. comes from a much deeper and elemental level than "what will people like?" or "how will i make money off of this?" so trying to turn it into those things would be sort of like disrespecting the source, i think. that's not to say that getting paid to write would be horrible...it would actually be great becuase that would strip away so many of the outside details (like my job and junk) that slow the writing process way, way down. but i can't specifically work towards that or else i might as well not be working at all.
so why not just keep all my shit to myself then, if i don't care what other people think and i'm doing it all for myself anyway? i dunno...sometime way back, listening to records and reading books and stuff, i got this crazy idea that occasionally you read or hear or see something that makes you think, or makes you smile, or makes you cry, or turns your world a little bit on its head for a few minutes. art has the power to make you really think, and i guess i go through the trouble (and possible embarrassment, failure, etc.) that i do in the hopes that maybe there are a few people out there who might take something from a line in a song, or an image in a line of a poem, or a lonely harmonica melody. beyond the money, beyond the interest in literature, beyond the fact that i just plain had to do something, i got into teaching because i remembered those teachers who significantly altered the way i saw things simply by doing what they did everyday of the week and talking about what they knew...and i've always thought to myself that if i could teach a class in a way that made just one student feel the same way i did about my high school calculus teacher or my creative writing professor, then all the trouble would have been worth it. that's how i feel about my writing/singing/etc, only about ten times more strongly. if there's someone out there that gets something out of it, even if it's just a little smile at a turn of a phrase or something, then all the potential awkwardness and embarrassment is totally worth it. and even if nobody gives a shit, i've got a lot of growing to do on my own anyway, so i've always got that to work on.
i've always been concerned, perhaps overly so (i often am), with other people's perceptions of me. for a long time it was regarding crazy things like appearance, personality, hairstyle, voice, etc. i got over that years ago when it turned out that the amount of effort necessary to assuage my concerns was enough that it would have literally been impossible to care about myself that much every day and still be a human being. so i just stopped. it was simple math, the easiest kind of justification.
so now, in a weird one-eighty, i do all kinds of weird stuff. i write rampantly and semi-coherently in a blog about my life that friends, family, co-workers, my bosses, my professors, my ex-students, my current students, my ex-girlfriends, people who i hope might someday be my girlfriend, and tons of people i've never met before in my life have access to. i write poems, i write songs and sing and play them, i occasionally try to draw or paint something (though that never goes well), i make weird shit out of random textiles to hang on my walls, i write books and stories and plays and rants and pretty much whatever else the fuck comes out of my head, and sometimes i even post it all on youtube.
and i don't worry about what people think of any of that. i occasionally worry about crossing this or that particular personal boundary with this or that person; anybody who's the least bit considerate sometimes worries about that. but i don't worry if anybody "likes" what i do. i worry, instead, about what people might think of how i present all of the random things that spill out of my head. oddly, i worry that people won't understand that i'm not worried. i worry that people will see my music, or my writing, or whatever, or just the pretty fucking direct and personal way i usually conduct myself and think i'm doing it to provoke some kind of reaction. like my display of art or life or whatever is meant to attract others' interest. because that's not the case.
there's so much attention-seeking behavior going on out there, though, that it's hard i guess to blame people for assuming by default that that's why anyone would share a song (because they want a record deal, or want more hits on their myspace profile, or want to bask in the miasma of faceless internet comments). i don't really do any of the stuff i do for that reason though. even though a lot of times it's hard to share any kind of art with people (getting up in front of people and playing music? music that actually means something to you when most of the people "listening" aren't even there to hear you in the first place? that's pretty tough stuff), i've found in the last few years that sharing is a self-reinforcing process. it never really gets any easier, but it makes more and sense to me that it's the thing to do.
for me one of the biggest blessings and the biggest curses of the internet age is this ability to pretty much share anything, anywhere, anytime. it brings the attention-seekers out of the woodwork, the people who aren't happy with themselves so they want to impress someone else with something and then draw from that, like a vampire or something, until it's dry. then they move on. at the same time i can throw up any writing or music or video i want on this screen for free and there's no obligation on my part, there's no obligation on the audience's part. they choose to look and the worst they're going to lose for it is a few minutes of their time.
so i can sit here and post weird video after weird video, and post demos of songs that still have a whole verse of just filler words, just to get something out there, just to get it out of my head and into the world. because that's really the reason i do all this stuff when i could just be watching TV or playing nintendo or catching up on my RSS reader. because life is hard, and complicated, and if you're paying attention there's a lot of sorting, and thinking, and airing out of dirty laundry to do. and the best way for me to deal with all that stuff is to make the kinds of things i make. to be able to take things out of my head that might be too dark or too bright for words and put them into something and let them out so they're not rattling around in there so loudly anymore. if anyone ever thinks it's for anything other than that (like the desire to be a famous author or a rock star or something) then they're wrong. my inspiration for the things i write, etc. comes from a much deeper and elemental level than "what will people like?" or "how will i make money off of this?" so trying to turn it into those things would be sort of like disrespecting the source, i think. that's not to say that getting paid to write would be horrible...it would actually be great becuase that would strip away so many of the outside details (like my job and junk) that slow the writing process way, way down. but i can't specifically work towards that or else i might as well not be working at all.
so why not just keep all my shit to myself then, if i don't care what other people think and i'm doing it all for myself anyway? i dunno...sometime way back, listening to records and reading books and stuff, i got this crazy idea that occasionally you read or hear or see something that makes you think, or makes you smile, or makes you cry, or turns your world a little bit on its head for a few minutes. art has the power to make you really think, and i guess i go through the trouble (and possible embarrassment, failure, etc.) that i do in the hopes that maybe there are a few people out there who might take something from a line in a song, or an image in a line of a poem, or a lonely harmonica melody. beyond the money, beyond the interest in literature, beyond the fact that i just plain had to do something, i got into teaching because i remembered those teachers who significantly altered the way i saw things simply by doing what they did everyday of the week and talking about what they knew...and i've always thought to myself that if i could teach a class in a way that made just one student feel the same way i did about my high school calculus teacher or my creative writing professor, then all the trouble would have been worth it. that's how i feel about my writing/singing/etc, only about ten times more strongly. if there's someone out there that gets something out of it, even if it's just a little smile at a turn of a phrase or something, then all the potential awkwardness and embarrassment is totally worth it. and even if nobody gives a shit, i've got a lot of growing to do on my own anyway, so i've always got that to work on.
an extra reason to be a complete dope
i almost used the word "schmuck" there. that's a word you never hear/see in the pacific northwest. it comes up a lot in ohio. so that's interesting.
i decided a week or so ago that in the fourteen day run-up to the beginning of the semester that i was no longer going to drink anything with caffeine in it. i figure once things get started and my health and sleep schedule spiral down the tubes, i'll probably have to give up giving it up...but, i wanted to be off of it for at least a little while.
after my great, research-driven epiphany of last year (i.e. learning that caffeine doesn't have any bizarre, unnatural side effects aside from pretty wild conjecture on the part of a few scientists and a lot of hippies), drinking a lot of coke seemed like the thing to do (aside from the very real scientific scariness that is phosphoric acid's ability to melt away pretty much the entire interior of your body). however, science and all aside, like any drug it allows a pretty impressive number of reasons for abuse.
a few that are of particular interest to me are: 1) causes inability to have negative emotions, 2) at the extreme end of things, causes inability to have any emotions, 3) eliminates the need for a decent amount of sleep, 4) eliminates the need to do reasonable amounts of work over a reasonable and sane amount of time, 5) many more involving other things that i won't go into.
basically, it lets you do whatever the fuck you want with regard to not taking care of yourself. which is already pretty much the thing i'm worst in the world at. it's similar to the awesome (and downright fucking wacko) behavior of some people i know who treat dehydration headaches with tylenol or advil instead of water. seriously? come on, guys.
i'm convinced that caffeine not intrinsically, chemically bad for you, but just like a cigarette or alcohol, it's there when there's something or other looming over you, saying "hey, you could man up and deal with this...or, you take some of this shit and forget about it". so as nice as it is to have caffeine for the oft-insane hours i actually HAVE to keep for my job, i'm once again becoming exceptionally leery of it.
even after a week "off", i've noticed a very enhanced awareness of certain things. like, for example, if i'm awake for more than 16 hours, i start to get tired. i need to sleep. i didn't sleep enough last night, and with no caffeine, by the time it got to be about 3pm, my body was like "fuck dude, i need to sleep more". so i had to take a nap. the other day i was working on a project for work for about five hours, and after that long, rather than ignoring the fact that i was working too hard and downing more coke, i acknowledged the fact that your brain probably isn't supposed to do one thing for that long and i went for a walk to clear my head.
my near-complete insanity for the last few weeks has made me realize i really need to try to reestablish some kind of baseline. some sort of middle ground to at least occasionally visit to regroup instead of bouncing back and forth between giddy and depressed like a manic ping-pong ball. caffeine certainly doesn't help that. it gets me going when i need to get going, but the fact is if i was being more responsible with my life and what exactly i was doing with myself i wouldn't need it at all, though i'd probably still occasionally drink a bit every few days because hey, it's not bad for you and if you're not using it to ignore the fact that you're miserable or that you're failing with the insomnia thing, then it's kind of fun. occasionally.
another good side benefit for y'all is that i'll probably have less stream-of-consciousness rants on my blog the less i drink. so high fives and filtered water all around!
i decided a week or so ago that in the fourteen day run-up to the beginning of the semester that i was no longer going to drink anything with caffeine in it. i figure once things get started and my health and sleep schedule spiral down the tubes, i'll probably have to give up giving it up...but, i wanted to be off of it for at least a little while.
after my great, research-driven epiphany of last year (i.e. learning that caffeine doesn't have any bizarre, unnatural side effects aside from pretty wild conjecture on the part of a few scientists and a lot of hippies), drinking a lot of coke seemed like the thing to do (aside from the very real scientific scariness that is phosphoric acid's ability to melt away pretty much the entire interior of your body). however, science and all aside, like any drug it allows a pretty impressive number of reasons for abuse.
a few that are of particular interest to me are: 1) causes inability to have negative emotions, 2) at the extreme end of things, causes inability to have any emotions, 3) eliminates the need for a decent amount of sleep, 4) eliminates the need to do reasonable amounts of work over a reasonable and sane amount of time, 5) many more involving other things that i won't go into.
basically, it lets you do whatever the fuck you want with regard to not taking care of yourself. which is already pretty much the thing i'm worst in the world at. it's similar to the awesome (and downright fucking wacko) behavior of some people i know who treat dehydration headaches with tylenol or advil instead of water. seriously? come on, guys.
i'm convinced that caffeine not intrinsically, chemically bad for you, but just like a cigarette or alcohol, it's there when there's something or other looming over you, saying "hey, you could man up and deal with this...or, you take some of this shit and forget about it". so as nice as it is to have caffeine for the oft-insane hours i actually HAVE to keep for my job, i'm once again becoming exceptionally leery of it.
even after a week "off", i've noticed a very enhanced awareness of certain things. like, for example, if i'm awake for more than 16 hours, i start to get tired. i need to sleep. i didn't sleep enough last night, and with no caffeine, by the time it got to be about 3pm, my body was like "fuck dude, i need to sleep more". so i had to take a nap. the other day i was working on a project for work for about five hours, and after that long, rather than ignoring the fact that i was working too hard and downing more coke, i acknowledged the fact that your brain probably isn't supposed to do one thing for that long and i went for a walk to clear my head.
my near-complete insanity for the last few weeks has made me realize i really need to try to reestablish some kind of baseline. some sort of middle ground to at least occasionally visit to regroup instead of bouncing back and forth between giddy and depressed like a manic ping-pong ball. caffeine certainly doesn't help that. it gets me going when i need to get going, but the fact is if i was being more responsible with my life and what exactly i was doing with myself i wouldn't need it at all, though i'd probably still occasionally drink a bit every few days because hey, it's not bad for you and if you're not using it to ignore the fact that you're miserable or that you're failing with the insomnia thing, then it's kind of fun. occasionally.
another good side benefit for y'all is that i'll probably have less stream-of-consciousness rants on my blog the less i drink. so high fives and filtered water all around!
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