The Animation Show was truly impressive. I can’t remember the last time that I’ve seen so much amazingly well-done and unique animation. There wasn’t a single piece this year that wasn’t brilliant.

And to top it all off, Don Hertzfeld himself answered some questions after the show… The guy looks just like Johnny Depp. It’s bizarre.

Anyhow, if you have the opportunity, check out that quaint little animation show. It’s a hell of a lot better than that icky Spike and Mike’s.

Oh, and in other news, I survived this last week! Go team me!!!

But I think I have the stomach flu!!! Good times. Good times.

I should be sleeping, but instead I’m winding down. It’s been a long week so far, and it’s only Tuesday.

This weekend was wonderful. Absolutely unbelievably wonderful. Hearst castle in the mid-afternoon, the clouds roll and gray skies patchwork themselves across a sky over a landscape better suited for the green highlands of Scotland. And there, a literal castle. I walk marble steps and contemplate the curiosity of someone long dead collecting ceilings.

Paso Robles hot springs, on the end of a 7:45 pm deserted windy road. I careen down it with no power steering. Somehow, it’s better that way.

Valentine’s Day… has never been the greatest of days for me. Every year I’m either alone or in a fight. This year, still not as good but for different reasons. Trying to drive to Santa Maria can be frightening sometimes. Particularly when the car decides, all of a sudden and quite rudely I might add, that it will not go above 15 miles an hour. Not on the highway, not on the road. Precious revs are lost. And I’m not angry in my little red baron, no… just disappointed. I feel like a father unable to reconcile with a teenage son. It’s a shame.

So, I spend the better moments of the day on the phone. Yet another shame.

Perhaps I feel like I should be dead to the world. All the signs are there, written in my assignment book, as dark as a headstone engraving…

Three midterms and six projects due this week.

My God, but wasn’t Neon Joseph just the sh*t last Thursday? I sat on the rug at the Dwelling, looking up at Joel Tolbert in a dark red suit and a fauxhawk, as he points to the ceiling showing the christmas lights hanging, picture perfect swinging in the bass breeze of the venue.

You look like a Saturday Night
A verified boulevard
Let’s do this town up right
In vintage christmas lights
Stand just a little bit close to me
Stand just a little bit clo-ho-se
Stand just a little bit close to me
Let’s dance

And I’m blown away. Oh, to be back there right now.

Yesterday, Brian’s dog Annie was hit by a car and died. I thought you should know.

Brian’s been a wreck… Brian’s been a wreck and all I can think about is how I have no idea what to say to people in these situations. I have no idea the words they need or want to hear. It bothers me mainly because I feel like there was a time that I knew how to deal with people that were going through adverse situations. Now, it’s more uncomfortable silence.

Or, in the case of this evening, I walked up to Brian and I hugged him. And I found that was exactly what I needed to say.

My room’s never seen as much change. It’s as if the entire fabric of reality is tearing. Seriously, when the black hole that erupts from the impossibilty of my clean and completely reorganized room starts sucking down neighbors houses, let this be fair warning.

Unfortunately, this morning my reinvisioned room was no comfort. Not only was I in the midst of the first hangover of my life, but I was in a strange room, staring at a ceiling on the opposite side of my room than I am used to. My head. My poor, poor head.

As if that amount of change wasn’t enough, I now have a website. An actual, honest-to-goodness website. An actual Nothing really there yet, but soon.

(For everyone that cares, I was able to get my site for just under $15 a year, with 100 megs of storage and awesomeness. Hosting was $4.20 for the year from and the domain name from for $8.95 . What a steal, hunh?)

So, yeah. I’m almost finished with Not quite, but very much getting there. I’m working like mad on projects for Advanced Typography and Book Design…

Life. Whodathunkit?

An Infinite Number of Monkeys
by Ronald Koertge

After all the Shakespeare, the book
of poems they type is the saddest
in history.

But before they can finish it,
they have to wait for that Someone
who is always

looking to look away. Only then
can they strike the million
keys that spell

humiliation and grief, which are
the great subjects of Monkey

and not, as some people still
believe, the banana
and the tire.