Please, Just Read On

Some people really shouldn't be able to formulate opinions on things so easily. It's not like their thoughts are intelligible.

Waiting to hear about my job. Excited. Nervous. Yes, yes.

I wore my Pink Floyd shirt to the drug test. I wonder if that was ironic at all.

Found out tonight, I will be allowed to go back to New Orleans next week, and only for a few days, to get what's left of my stuff. More details to follow about my trip.

Things to pray for me about when gone, if you wish:

1. Safety against sickness, disease, and crime.
2. Emotional stability and reliance upon GOD.
3. The will to accomplish all I need to do.

In other news, I ordered a new subwoofer for my car. It's a Polk Audio/MOMO 8 inch. I will give you more details later.

Okay, this is random and so over with. Just like you and I. Ha.

Today

I got a job. I will be a personal care assistant (teacher aid) in the exceptional education department at my Alma Mater, Eau Gallie High School. I will be one-on-one with an autistic teenager who is non-communicative but really bright. This job is about 32 hours a week and pays okay. I am excited, but obviously a little nervous. Tomorrow I have to get fingerprinted, get a background test, and take a drug test. I hope I pass. I fail at so many other things. Ciao.

Sean O'Grady, Where Have You Gone?

I try to tell a story
With every word I write
But sometimes these phrases
Come off sully and trite

Commonsense is not so common
Even among the elite
The only ones who have something to brag about
Are the ones who know it's not worth the prize to compete

Every time I try to think
Of something new to say
The same old syllables
Come off overdone and passé

I thought I could once fall in love
But that seems to be a mystery
I thought that dream could come true
But now I know that's my misery

It's only a fabrication of the mind
It's not reality
Real is waking up
Next to someone like me

There are so many things I hate
Me for one
In spite of myself
I sit here and contemplate

For me
This is what it means
To have something
That is worth redeeming

Not highly irrelevant
As with the chances
At finding something other
Than these petty romances

Thank You Kevin King

As summer ended and camp let out, Kevin, one of the children who attended camp this year, gave me a gift card for Tower Records (and I wasn't even his coach). Well, I spent it tonight and nearly forty of my own bucks (not FEMA's) and this is what I will get in a week:

Death Cab For Cutie - Plans



The newest release from these Washington state indie poppers who make the jump to the majors with this record. To some, this is horrible. While others see the potential for greatness. I don't know. I still love DCFC and dislike the OC. I'm looking forward to hearing it.

Stretch Arm Strong - Free At Last



Positive hardcore with punk rhythm and metal licks. These guys could seriously be the heaviest thing I currently listen to, which is sort of sad considering I used to even like some Death Metal. But from what I've read, this release sounds more like what A Revolution Transmission did, but has lyrical elements similar to their last effort, Engage. Not that I really care, but it's kind of cool. This CD comes with an autographed copy of the insert/liner notes.

The Juliana Theory - Deadbeat Sweetheartbeat



Don't ask me what the title means. TJT's last album, Love, had some good moments. Yet, it had some really shoddy moments too. I'm scared. The samples of songs I've heard from this album are heavier, but word on the street is, they have gone back to more of their pop roots. This is good news. This disc also comes with bonus DVD highlighting the making of this LP.

Miles Davis - Birth of Cool



I am slowly getting essential Davis albums in my collection and this was my next acquisition. Recorded in 1949 and 1950, this was basically Miles' first album. Later on, he would become the great trumpeter we know him as, but it was sessions like these that built his arsenal of sound and unique textured-playing. Miles Davis invented a genre with this record. It certainly wouldn't be the last time he did so.

Undocumented Late Saturday / Early Sunday Thoughts

In a poetic scheme:

rooms

i miss the way my bed would shake when the trains went by
i miss you as well
there are so many things
that make me be
one way or another

sometimes there are things i could say
just like the other day
when you would be so hurt
and the only condolences i can give
are like strings from streamer hung for a funeral

friends stay, or leave, or come, or fade
i still think that is the way
this life works
and though being broke it will never make it
something you or i cherish

so many memories
can be erased
gone
without little more than a simple line

i could care, but i really don't

it's these things that make me scared

can anything make me, me
more than the defamated images i claim to be

sick and disgusted; happy go lucky

branded by scales and organs
it is now my turn to do it to you

this is all you get

you, whoever you wish it fore

this is who you are for

yourself

Lipsey Street (Blaize, Thanks For Picking A 2nd Floor Room)




















The first building on your left is Hamilton Hall. My room, # 209, seems to look okay from this picture, although water has receded greatly, thus not letting me out of the woods totally. No word yet on when residents will be able to return to the fallen city.

In other exciting news, I got my emergency $2,000 from FEMA yesterday. That was a huge sigh of relief as bills still continue and tuition will start coming out again next month. I will be able to finish out this semester online through what will become an independent study and internet courses. We'll see how it goes.

until forever is today...

Tuckered Men 55+ Only

I will never understand why people want to pick up potential dates on bathroom stalls.

Hello, how are things? I am fine.

I haven't written anything in a while, so here goes:

Saturday I went to Disney World with my brother for Night of Joy. The mighty Further Seems Forever played and they were fantastic as always. I didn't get back until 3 AM.

Sunday, I pretty much slept all day. I didn't do a lot.

On Monday, I helped my Dad around the house for about three hours. I was tired.

I am currently looking for employment in Melbourne. If you know of anything, let me know.

That is it for now, more to come later.

Mild-Life Crisis

Pictures like these still bring me to tears. Man, I love reunions (nod to NewsCom for it).

What is love? Love... it's such a funny thing. Johnny Cash said it was, "a burning flame." I often thought of it as a game. But, the Bible doesn't need to come up with a clever rhyme to answer the query. 1st Corinthians answers astoundingly by proclaiming that God is love.

I like that. I need that. I want that.

I wonder how one distinguishes the difference between love and like (or lust)? Sex and sacrifice. Friendship and marriage. All the elements are intertwined and cannot be separated simply for self-seeking pleasures.

It's pictures like this that keep me up wondering late at night.

It's Getting Better All The Time

It has to be, it can't get worse. Well, yes it can. I suppose that worse could be a lot of different options of consequence. But for me, I am alive. Life hurts less these days. Anyway, the main reason I am writing is to ask those of you who pray to pray for my Mom. She broke her wrist last week and now she has to have surgery on it to put a plate in to keep the bones from shifting so they set properly. Thanks, I appreciate it.

"You Need To Learn To Slow Down"

That's what the state trooper said to me today as he walked away from my car. Oh yeah, he sure did give me a ticket. Why? I was clocked on radar doing 92 mph in a posted speed limit of 70 mph (on I-10 East). My ticket is $205.50. I can't be mad because it's my fault. It's just not one of the brighter things I've done. It's my first ticket in 4 years. Just where the last of my money needs to go.

In other news, I will continue to update everyone on my current situation. Without much notice to anyone, even my parents, I came to my parents house today. It's strange to be here. Just seven days ago I left my home, only be gone for a few days. These will be the longest few days of my life.

If you wish to contact me via postal mail, here is the info. If you want my phone number here, email me and ask for it. Since it's my parents line, I don't want to give it out on the net.

Jeff Watkins
4515 White Road
Melbourne, FL 32934

(Ed Note About Blog: Not that I started, but on To Whom, I will relinquish from discussing any of the mishaps or tragedies post-Hurricane Katrina from now on. It hurts too much for me. People are free to discuss, have/share opinions, tell others they are wrong/right, etc. This is your constitutional right. But the thing I am so tired of is people who have never lived in New Orleans, or even visited it for that matter, having opinions of the city. The kind of opinions where they conclude in a pretty post about what should or should not happen and who is or is not to blame. The issues submerged [pun intended] are so multi-faceted that it is not a problem that can be solved so quickly and effortlessly. Also, to those who concern themselves with the poverty of the city now, please? If anyone cared, why wasn't anything being done about it years ago. I realize my statements have holes and aren't solid arguments, but that's not what I'm doing here. I'm just sharing my frustration of hearing the uninformed, inform me, of what my life was like. This isn't directed at anybody in particular. I am just tired. I can see all the sides and I can relate to all the people.)

I am a volunteer.

I am a looter.

I am white by skin.

I am treated as a minority in that city.

I left because I had a way out.

But my heart and mind stayed. It's not the same, but it's more unbearable than you can imagine, unless you were there.

I am a person who cares.

I am a person who is angry and fed up.

I can be compassionate.

I can be a bastard.

I was safe.

I wasn't safe. Even though I didn't see the horrors in real life, I still can't get the images out of my head just the same.

I have so much.

I still lost a lot.

I don't deserve anything.

But because of grace, I have life.

"I had a good cry last night."

To quote my old friend Chase (at least I think he titled a post that once). I am still doing good here in Dothan, Alabama. I'm catching up with friends and trying to remain optimistic about everything. The realization is hitting me more and more that I have nothing left, as far as material positions. I do realize that "things" aren't important and can be replaced, but you try losing everything except for what you took with you haphazardly--it will make you think a lot. And that's about all I have been doing the past few days.

I've talked to some friends from New Orleans and that is an answered pray and a huge sigh of relief. I'm still waiting to hear from some other people. Blaize, my roommate in the sunken Hamilton # 209, went back to the surrounding area today to do relief work. Pray for him please. I am praying about what I need to do. I know my parents want me home and I sort of want that too.

Today I find out what the rest of the year holds for me in academia via the school's website. I will let you know what my plans are and how to reach me.

Well I have been up for a long time and need to sleep. Today I find out what I do for the rest of the year and I have lunch with Ricky. And it might even feel normal at some points. Seems to pan out for me.

Here's a picture of my blessed neighborhood. If you scroll all the way to the right and look for a long line of train tracks, you will see NOBTS. It runs parallel to the tracks. The seminary is on what appears to be the north side, but in actuality is east. It's mostly underwater, but I can see the roof of my dorm so I still have my hopes up that I can get some crap from within.



Post Script: If you can manage to see the pool next to the gym, my dorm is the one next to that on the right side of the pool and gym.