creative riff

So my diploma showed up in our mailbox, sealed in a white canister yesterday. The shipping was $1.90. I presume that shipping to the lower 48 is the same. Assuming the bulk of the class of 2009 is around 3,200 that puts the total for shipping those parchments at $6,100. It really is fascinating to take a closer look at the costs involved with sending one semester’s worth of graduates their diplomas (couldn’t they curb costs by giving it to us directly on the stage?).

Physically seeing the document has also stirred a few emotions within me. I am officially an alumni.  Am I okay with that? Sure, but can I keep some of my now-vintage Duke-Carolina t-shirts, pretty please? Another thing, I can now hang the accomplishment on a wall somewhere. Plus it actually looks a lot cooler than a trophy. Imagine what it would be like if you received a trophy upon completion of undergraduate study. What would a bachelor of the arts trophy look like? Would it involve a beer funnel and viking horns?

I apologize for the long gap between content. It isn’t that I am particuarly busy as I await my semester at VCU to start. Rather, I am finishing up some reading, Fallout 3 and watching a good deal of films I might not have time to see for many years. Crazy stuff. More soon.

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This week coincides with my sister’s “Myrtle Beach Week.” That means a lot of strange unfun stuff is bound to happen with lifelong relationships. There are many times I find myself wishing the drinking age was 18 or even 16. This is one of those times.

So I heard back from VCU. It turns out that I am not accepted into their “copywriting program” but they want me to consider their “communication strategies” track. The only problem – I never took the GRE. So I am in the process of applying to two schools in Atlanta while I find out more information from VCU. Kind of a bummer. I’m not going to be deterred. This is a business of subjection, not absolute truths.

I also found out that my parents will be unable to visit Italy through my mom’s work. The pesky economy has caused one too many people to drop out driving the costs up exorbitantly. I do hope that my parents get to go on a trip to the region in the coming years.

My dad also turned 60 this past weekend. Kinda nuts to think that 38 years seperate you from your father. That is almost two me’s. I’d say he has pretty good health for someone of his lack of physical activity. I hope I keep up daily walking/jogging/cycling long into my fifties.

Speaking of which, I have cranked out new short stories over the past couple days. I’m not sure if anyone will like them, but they are a product of despair, hope and youth. See what you think.

Job Interview

Fresh Air

I went to the 22nd Annual Reynolds High School sports banquet Monday evening in lieu of my father. My dad is presently full of mucus from trimming the English Ivy adorning the front of our abode. This is my sister’s senior year in high school and she was a member of the regional champion varsity field hockey team. Not bad for a mere goalie. The food wasn’t bad; I just wish I got a second slice of the lemon cake. It was touching to see the tribute ceremony for Matthew Gfeller who died after a brain injury at the start of the season.

I was studying abroad when my sister told me of Matthew’s death and I could sense how it affected her through Skype conversations and e-mails. Senior year is often made out to be the best year of your pre-adult life and the loss of Matthew as well as our close family friend, Cathy Skoog did little to diminish the bittersweetness of 2008. I only wish I had been around to comfort my family during the four months of my absence.

I am happy to say that I finished working on a short story I started before exams. I had the skeleton nearly completed but I couldn’t muster up a satisfactory ending. I fleshed out the story and will upload it as soon as I pick it apart and edit it. In the meantime I am making some great progress with my headlines for VCU. Whether they pick them apart or accept me I feel like I have made progress from where I was a year ago.

I have an interview for a summer internship at Wild Fire Ideas, a Winston-Salem ad agency on Thursday. If I manage to impress this will be my third internship. I have already stated that making $0 is fine by me if I am happy (I can sell crack or something).

I have completed Stay Close and I will be uploading the review shortly. My next book is the high school favorite Lord of the Flies by William Golding. I never read the book but it apparently shares many themes of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness.

I am planning to sell my Nintendo Wii this summer. I could use some cash and if anyone is in the market for a used system feel free to contact me. Otherwise I will post some eBay links.

Memorial weekend is upon us and I hope everyone manages to watch Christian Bale kick some Terminator ass. Part of me hopes that the success of this movie could save Fox’s Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. The rational old man inside of me knows that this is impossible. We are dealing with Fox.

Cheers all! Jump through a sprinkler on your front lawn or wear a sundress. Just make sure that whatever you do avoid wearing your Buddhist swastika t-shirt at all airports and bus stations this weekend.

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It’s all over. My time at UNC is over that is. My general graduation and departmental graduation for my journalism degree was Sunday, May 10. I spent the better part of yesterday unpacking, organizing clothes and finishing out the last episodes of Californication and Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. I already admit that I am a huge James Cameron nerd so I am hoping [praying] that this summer’s Terminator Salvation doesn’t completely blow.

Driving back from Chapel Hill I had the strange desire to open my senior year high school yearbook. I remembered that I had a senior quote that was “bad ass,” but I couldn’t quite remember what it was. After opening the dusty tome I found that I selected one from John Locke. The funny thing is I think I might actually start watching Lost this summer after enjoying J.J. Abrams’ brilliant revision of Star Trek.

I have always thought the actions of men the best interpreters of their thoughts. – John Locke

In other news, I am wait listed at Virginia Commonwealth University’s Brand Center. I have been tasked with writing headlines for the following three brands: NY Times, Lexington BBQ and All-Bran Cereal. Once completed I will hopefully have something to do this fall. I will update with my progress. As of now I have completed my research – now to begin putting finger to keyboard and pen to paper.

As for now, I am attempting one more internship or hoping to find a job in order to fill the time between May and August. I hope I don’t have to take up waiting once more but this economy makes everything so unpredictable.

In the meantime I am dusting off my vinyl collection and jamming out for inspiration. I promises substantive posts will follow in the next few days. Right now I am fighting off a raging headache while listening to the rattling echo of Desmond Tutu’s sermon in my ear. My newest inspirations include:

Wilco’s A Ghost is Born

Jeff Buckley’s Grace and Sketches

Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue

St. Vincent’s Actor

Thin Lizzy’s Jailbreak

Sufjan Steven’s You Are The Blood/Dark Was the Night

Despite Pitchfork’s recent review of the Silversun Pickups’ latest effort, Swoon, I am kicking myself for not picking it up at Best Buy for $9.99 today. The band may be the best reincarnation of the Smashing Pumpkins’ distinct ’90s alternative rock blended with the fun of ’70s fuzziness, but “Panic Switch” is alone worthy of your purchase. The rest of the album is some of the most reminiscent rock I have encountered in years outside of The Darkness.

My tagline: Don’t Panic… [Switch] this summer – pick up Swoon and ease into humidity with some sweat-infused ballads. I apologize already.

So I just got in my bed to take a short nap around 4:50. Next thing I know I hear someone in the hall yell something to a friend. Then as I look over to my iHome it reads 6:35 p.m. I feel like I just had the kind of sleep you have when you are sure you have come down with something or possibly after the most passionate night of your life. Or whatever a trucker must feel after driving Route 66.

The dream starts with me getting an e-mail informing me that I got into VCU or something. I have to get to Richmond. Prior to all of this I marked out on the forms that I have relatives that live in Richmond (I do) and that two girls have expressed interest in living with me. I am sent their information in this e-mail, but there is some information error and I never get to know their names until later (it’s important to the story).

I meet the two girls on a train or airplane. I am not driving. I somehow get a seat between the two. These girls are not over attractive but one is a brunette and the other is a red head and both have cute faces with gentle slopes for cheeks and noses. They are both slightly big boned for their particular body type. Not knowing these girls names I introduce myself and quickly try to bury myself in a book. Before long I am passed out. I wake to the sensation of these girls smiling at one another and rubbing my body with their elbows. This is a surprisingly nice thing to wake up to.

We get to Richmond and I take them and their luggage up to the two rooms upstairs. My grandparents are not home. We hardly bring up the suitcases  before we begin to make love. I would elaborate but for some reason this part of my mind only now remembers bits and pieces.

I wake up again. Crap, I have to be somewhere. Where? At UNC’s Keenan Flagler Football Stadium or at least a place that resembles it. Why? I don’t know. I awaken the two girls I am once again sitting between and we head over. For some reason my family is watching a game in the adjacent football stadium and I actually run into him while getting refreshments for the girls. He tells me that my whole family will be having dinner tonight and that my friend from sophomore year and UNC cheerleader, Jason, is coming along too. Also, my dad informs me that the two girls are named (Miranda) and (Lucy) and that they should wear something special.

I walk back to the girls who are laughing and giggling and tell them the news. We decide to leave early so we can head to the mall to buy new clothes. I love how the light reflects on the Miranda’s freckles and the sun dress she is wearing.

As the three of us are leaving the football game vs. University of South Carolina, I run in to Jason. He tells me that he will be over in my room (?) in an hour. I don’t question him. I take the two girls to the Shops at Willow Lawn in Richmond. The two girls decide to steal a dress they find and mall security does it job for once by giving chase to us. We manage to escape out of some roof exit and the two girls look at me in a longing manner as we descend the rooftop by some a fire ladder.

As we get back to my room (in Richmond), I let the girls get dressed so I can go meet Jason. I actually drive all the way back to UNC again to meet him even though he earlier told me he would just drive over in an hour. I find him and we discuss Miranda and Lucy. We get back to my room and I peek my head in first. For some reason, I am afraid Jason might judge me negatively if the girls were naked or worse when we entered. The two girls are in fact looking under my bed and laughing at one another. The brunette gazes up at me and says, “Did you mean to keep all of this stuff that is under there?” I mumble that I have been meaning to clean it out for some time. It felt like part of my initial passion for the two was beginning to already wear off.

I turn around and Jason is already dressed for dinner. He was not a moment before. My father calls for me to get ready. I hear a loud yell from outside my dream. I wake up. It is 6:35 p.m.

I am not sure what to think about this dream. I feel very rested. It also felt risque. I’m almost 23 and the two girls acted 17.

Drove up to Richmond for my interview at VCU. Hopefully, I find out in June that I can go to graduate school this fall. The interview (which wasn’t much of an interview) went well. Lazy Good Friday that turned into a me catching a does of the “book flu.” It is as if all of a sudden, I feel the desire to catch up on a world of literature. Music, sports and video games can now take a back seat to fiction. Short list of all new/used I picked up this weekend (Hopefully this means more book reviews in the future):

John Cheever – The Stories of John Cheever and Bullet Park

Phillip K. Dick – The Man in the High Castle

Bret Easton Ellis – The Informers and Lunar Park

Jeffrey Eugenides – The Virgin Suicides

F. Scott Fitzgerald – This Side of Paradise

Ernest Hemingway – Across the River and Into the Trees

Cormac McCarthy – All the Pretty Horses

Steve Martin – Shop Girl

Haruki Murakami – The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and Kafka on the Shore

Tim O’Brien – The Things They Carried

Thomas Pynchon – Gravity’s Rainbow

Erich Maria Remarque – All Quiet On the Western Front

Phillip Roth – The Plot Against America

Mark Twain - The Prince and the Pauper and Life on the Mississippi

Virginia Woolf – Mrs. Dalloway

Now I am off to watch Steven Spielburg’s masterpiece (yeah, right) Amistad. Night.