Wednesday, July 13, 2005

and the living is easy...

Life is nice these days. It’s warm outside. Everything is alive and happy to be.

I have a job which under normal circumstances would make me unhappy because I’m lazy and I hate working. However, for some unexplainable reason, it’s all good. It’s a nice little job. The people I work for are fantastic, laid back and when it comes down to it, really quite amusing. I truly enjoy being there. And besides that, it’s certainly nice to have money to do things I enjoy…summer things.

My sister's home from Florida and the time we've spent together since she got back on Father’s Day has been absolutely wonderful..."stellar" as the adorable, big-haired waiter at Applebee’s named Mitchell might say.

The fifth annual luau was an absolute success. From what I hear, we stole the crowds of 2 other Saddle Brook parties AND Ed’s. I don’t know about you but that’s pretty much one of the greatest things I’ve ever heard. This was the best one yet, in my opinion. If you missed it…well then it’s a damn shame for you...

happy people dancing in the rain, at least 17 cases of beer, 4 separate shooting stars seen by 4 separate sets of eyes, a water damaged yet frequently used and immensely loved cardboard cutout, a visit from police officers at 1 in the morning responding to a noise complaint and telling us to shut the hell up, jeff smith/the only person whose presence no one could bring themselves to comprehend, my beautiful cousins from Virginia that I haven't seen in years and need to see a hell of a lot more of, a disgustingly filthy Kevin Crawley falling all over himself in my kitchen at 2am, hours of painfully intense beer pong, 12 pizza pies and 3 orders of breadsticks (my father is the lord), Eric Wormann, raw chicken, the most delicious steak I’ve ever eaten in my entire 23 years of being alive (thank you, Jay), Bob Marley and The Beta Band singing to us from the heavens (aka Connie’s bedroom window), ...and what I consider to be a poetic and perfect end to it all; a closed circle of about 10 amazingly different yet in those moments, completely united human beings sitting around a fire in the backyard (or as we like to call it, “the pit” or “Connie’s new home”) getting high together, giggling into the night and absolutely loving each other until 4 in the morning.

In short, "we had a party and people came". It was magical. I loved every second of it. Thank you all for coming and we’ll see you next year for number VI. Good job, K-man. Let's keep up the good work. I mean come on, even my mother had an awesome time, and she fucking hates the luau with everything inside of her.

“Six Feet Under” is way too rapidly nearing its extremely dreaded end and I could not be sadder about it. On the other hand, this fifth and final season has been absolutely breathtaking and I could not be more thrilled about the direction it’s taking, however upsetting it may be to watch. So I suppose it all evens out in the end. Just to warn you all though…it’s going to be one of the most awful moments of my life, that last “fade to black”, and I may be depressed for at least a week after it’s all over. I realize I may sound a bit obsessed, a bit freakish, a bit ridiculous, maybe even awful and shitty to some of you…that’s only because I am…all those things. It’s okay. I’ve accepted it. I’m aware that it’s only a television program. I just don’t care.