So, as most everyone knows by now, Malcolm passed away on the 19th. He decided that he just couldn't take his inner horrors anymore.

Malcolm was one of those friends that I would "catch up" with online, but we rarely followed through and actually hung out in the years since we left Natchitoches. However, of the few memories I have of my time up there, he is one of the audience's favorite returning characters.

The funeral was this past Friday, the 23, at Jesuit. If you have ever been to their chapel you know that it is pretty much the size of a church, not a chapel. It was full. People stood in the back. It was the hardest few hours in my life since my uncle died.

After the funeral, some of us went out to a bar for a few hours and drank, told stories about Malcolm, drank, told stories about random things in Natchitoches, drank, caught up on where everyone was in their life, drank, and tried to play pool.

Five hours later we moved to Jon's house. Some of us were sitting on the back porch smoking, while some of the guys were in Jon's shed. All of a sudden, a pigeon came flying through the yard in a haphazard manner, making all sorts of noise. It flew past the door to the shed, and those of us on the porch thought, "Man, that would have been fucking hilarious if that bird had flown into the shed." Right then the bird pulled a 180 and flew right on into the shed. It flew all around the guys' heads and then hit the deck in a corner.

I think everyone was thinking the same thing, but Jon was the first to say "Okay, Malc, it's your hit, man."

Your Personality is Very Rare (INTP)

Your personality type is goofy, imaginative, relaxed, and brilliant. Only about 4% of all people have your personality, including 2% of all women and 6% of all men You are Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Perceiving.

Is this why I have more guy friends than girl friends?

I am currently in the process of getting rid of a lot of crap in my apartment. I've come to accept that I have too much stuff, and therefore I must begin the layoffs. In my quest for things to trash, sell, donate, give away, whatever, I have had to take a moment and reevaluate my system for...well...valuing things. So, what are some of my favorite things?

-My Mac. I love it. Every time someone asks me what I think about it, I have to hold myself back.....I feel like I'm recruiting for a cult or something. I just have so much to praise about it and pretty much nothing to complain. I love it. I want everyone to experience this kind of depth in their computer-user relationships.

-RollingStone Magazine. No matter what kind of day I'm having, I always get super-stoked when I find this waiting in my mailbox. It is entertaining, informative, and very well written. It makes the perfect bubble bath buddy!

-Netflix. Like my Mac, I can't stop bragging on Netflix. I started my subscription about two years ago and I have never once considered stopping in when I periodically trim my budget. We don't have cable, and I don't like movie theaters, so Netflix really picks up some slack in our culture regimen. I love that I can get new releases as well as old TV shows. I love that I can keep it for weeks or if it's crap I can send it back the next day. I love that I can lend someone a movie, and as soon as they are done with it they just drop it in the mail for me. I love it!

-Sirius Radio. This was a Christmas present. Before this January I only listened to CDs and NPR. Now, I actually know music from bands that are still alive/together! And, when I add in...

-iTunes...I can instantly download pretty much any new song that catches my attention. Last night Mario said "Did you know the Deftones covered Sade's 'No Ordinary Love'?" Well, I did not know that, but less than minute later I had paid my $1.06 and we were listening to that very track. I can get episodes of LOST or El Tigre. (Seriously, check out El Tigre...it is the next best Nickelodeon Cartoon) My only complaint? It's almost too easy...many mornings I wake up and ask "Why did I download this crap?"

-Caribou Coffee Granola Bars. C'mon....it's a granola bar with pretty good chocolate and COFFEE! How could this be more perfect? (well, it could scrub my tub for me, but that's just getting greedy)

-My stemware rack. It is plastic and inexpensive (at Bed Bath & Beyond), but it has made a world of a difference. We have very limited cabinet space here, so being able to hang our wine/martini/champagne glasses from the underside of our cabinets is a huge plus.

-My record player/records. I think part of why I like records is that you can't just shove them your car/purse/computer bag and play them where ever. You have to commit to sitting down and really listen to the music, flip the record after four or five songs, and continue listening to the music. It may be Hollywood cliche, but I think people stopped really listening to music once it became so portable. The iPod may change that, but most people seem to be working/reading/studying when they use their iPod, so they're not totally tapped in to the music. I love to put on a good record and turn off all of the lights, so it's just me and music.

-My Crocs. They're oh-so-comfortable and easy to slide on. Plus, they don't feel as confining as most other shoes, but they give you more protection than say, flip-flops.

-You. Yes, I love you. Why? Because you're TIME Magazine's Person of the Year. I mean, who doesn't love you?

Two disasters avoided last night:

1- The dishwasher broke. The latch wouldn't work, so we couldn't run it. I saw that the second latch that "tells" the main latch that the door is closed and that it can lock was not lining up correctly, but I couldn't tell if it was hitting too low or too high. Mario was set to take it apart and I was set to fix it first to avoid dishwasher parts scattered around the house and a permanently disabled washer. I put some Nutella on the secondary latch, closed the door, saw where it was hitting, and then bent it to where it needed to be. Three cheers for Nutella!

2- We started a small stove fire while cooking dinner. Mario tried to slam a pot lid over the fire, which resulted in scorching the lid and burning his hand. I yelled "Baking soda! Baking soda!" because I was busy holding the pot of frijoles that had been on the burner that was now in flames. Mario acted quickly and poured the baking soda on the flames and presto: fire gone! Three cheers for baking soda and teamwork!

28
When I held the jewl in hand
I didn't know its worth.
When I lost it to another
The wind of loss howled in my chest.

29
Small black written letters
Can be destroyed by water or crossed out.
An unscribed figure in the mind may fade
But will never be forgotten

42
If a young girl never died
There would be no reason to brew beer.
At such a time
This is a young man's surest source of refuge.

43
If a man does not ponder death and impermanence
Deep in his heart
He may be both clever and learned
But is like an idiot
Concerning the purpose of life.

50
The willow's in love with the sparrow,
The sparrow's in love with the willow.
With love so intermingled
What chance does the gray hawk have?

*These are little gems I found in a collection of the Sixth Dalai Lama's poetry, which is listed below.

by Kathleen Lake

He's a kid: Goofy. Baggy
clothes, glasses
tipping, ponytail slipping
out of its band, as if it never meant
to be there, arms and legs not committing
to being anywhere. How did he get here?
He interrupts me, shrugs and giggles, shirttail
untucked, dawdles at my door
till I let him in.
But when his clothes come off, so does
all that. Skin phosphorescent with pure
intention, eyes with the sheen of
light on water, he holds
to what he wants, and he wants
me, the way summer wants
to come again, the way the Terminator wants
Linda Hamilton dead.
Well.
Me, I think a man, just for being
secretly and shockingly
beautiful, should get what he wants, so I serve myself up,
a half-moon of melon curving
on the cool white plate of my bed.
And oh, how his fingers
twist in my hair. How he tells me my own name
so I'll never forget.
And when he goes out later, half
slip, half swagger, back to the offhand,
half-assed world, I sit here, still buzzy,
horny, humming. Next door some bluesy woman croons
that if she can't have love, she'll die. I wonder:
did I just get loved,
or diminished? And if I peel off my last
apology, can I stand to be this
awake,
alone,
alive?

A visit to the farmers' market resulted in the purchase of a flat of strawberries. It's early in the season, but these are damn good berries. This coinciding with my purchase of new baking powder and good flour inspired Homemade Strawberry Shortcakes! Here, have one:

In the spirit of full disclosure, I must admit that this was a spectacular anomaly in my recent history of culinary experimentation. As evidence, here's a shot of our version of a blooming onion:

Ha ha ha! Get it. Mario didn't thiink that was too funny, but it cracked me up for a good ten minutes. And again while I was writing this.