Five by Five.

New house. Stocked kitchen. Job. Potential therapy dog, the third member of The First Wives' Club. Student loans and stimulus check on the way. Internet I can scam. Camel Filters. Eddie Izzard. School: an acceptable excuse for skipping social events. The Sleep Machine I've built on the floor. Falling asleep to Eddie Izzard, Eugene Mirman, Bill Hicks and/or Patton Oswalt. Questionable Content. Having a yard. Diet Coke. Vitamins. Vitamin Water. Showering. Shaving my legs. Clean unmentionables. And clean socks. "Ghostbusters II." The stack of vintage suitcases in the corner. Piles of books. Surrounding myself with piles of books. Storage space. Knowing that a Wii is in my near future. Also knowing that my N64 will soon be back in business, and with it, "Zelda: Ocarina of Time." Being over the bullshit. Being above the bullshit. Being part of a three-typewriter-two-record-player household. Having a bazillion wine glasses. Doing dishes. Writing, near constantly, be it in Microsoft Word or the yellow legal pad I've been toting around (even if I'm not posting any of it online). The ideas. Finding my muse. Rain. An August that isn't like being trapped in a smokehouse. The Beach. "Oh! You Pretty Things" on repeat. Spray paint. Dancing like an idiot to ABBA. Potential. Not being a freshman. Distance. Perspective. Hindsight. Old postcards, letters and souvenirs. Those memories that make me laugh out loud, smile to myself. Late night Walmart trips (even if Walmart sucks.) Vinyl. Yes, of course, singing in the shower. Singing all the time. Tips. Q=tips are nice, too. Coffee in the morning. Light breeze. Sleeping under a half dozen blankets. Sleeping in. Waking up happy. Not being stressed out. Smit. The Olympics. Things getting better, just like I've been saying they would. Getting inked on Sunday. Giraffes. Wayfarers. Kissing and handcuffs. Not doing jack-shit, and feeling ok about it. Painting. Not being addled by substances. Did I mention the dog?

Life is absurd, but totally worth it.