I think I've become a little too obsessed with blogging. This site alone has this blog, a music blog, and a fictional story blog. Then there's the Cafe Ballou blog and Chicago Metblogs.

It's time to thin the herd.

So here's the breakdown:

• La La Love You has a maximum of two posts and one month left on it. The story isn't that great anyway, and it needs to end. Then I'll archive it to the writing directory.


• Stick It In Your Ear stays. I'm a slave to music.


• I haven't posted to the Cafe Ballou blog in months, and I'm pretty sure it'll stay that way. My idea was for Christine to actually post to it anyway, so it'd really be Cafe Ballou's blog.


• Posts I usually write here should really be posted on Metblogs, because I checked, and get this: Everything happening to me happens in Chicago. They have like twice the number of readers I do, which should put them at about four readers. If you count me. Why would I write this crud if I don't want more people to read it? Not one to do anything drastic, I'll keep this blog here, just in case I need to inform you that I'm getting a tooth pulled or something.


• Am I forgetting any blogs? Well then, I won't be posting to them, will I?


• I lowered my cholesterol.

So there we have it. Within a month, that should effectively knock five blogs down to a hopefully manageable two. If you want to know my lame opinions on the Chicago music scene, read Stick It In Your Ear. If you want to see me hold my own among several writers who are much better than me, read Chicago Metblogs. I just wrote a lame post about displaced snobs on it. If you want to get cheap furniture at low low prices, try Craig's list or maybe Milwaukee Avenue. No, I'm not going to provide a link to that.

listening to: [adult swim]
in my sink: Doesn't this make you feel all misty-eyed? It could very well be the last "in my sink" joke. And here it is: I'd inventory it if I could see over it.

My cholesterol is 159. ONE FIFTY-NINE.

Two months ago, it was almost twice as high. Wednesday, my doctor begged me to stay on the medication whatever the cost. Today, I can't really argue with the numbers.

So tomorrow, I cancel cable TV and internet.

Okay, maybe next month I cancel cable TV.

Right now, I'm going to get a triple pastrami-salami-corned-beef-ham on rye with four kinds of melted cheese. Topped with mayonnaise. And a bratwurst. That's right, a big ol' bratwurst just sitting on top of my sandwich. Dripping in like seven different oils. And a turtle mocha latte, with whole milk, and whipped cream on top. And a chocolate chip sandwich inside it. Then I'm coming back home and throwing away all those soy products in my fridge. And I'm buying REAL CHEESE.

listening to: vamplifier (a band that doesn't seem to know it's own website) (they're trying to be my friend on myspace. they have music. i'll listen. points off for pointing me to a software distributor as their website though.)
in my sink: all the glasses that held the lilacs. a pan. a spatula. 2 plates. a cup. a bowl. a fork, a spoon, a knife.

I gave my iPod a facelift. Check it out:



It fits perfectly inside.



Now THAT's iPodular.

listening to: Chin Up Chin Up, the Baseball Furies
in my sink: plates, and stuff

I was looking forward to a free frosty from Wendy's this weekend. Then I saw them.


Maybe that picture doesn't give you a true sense of the scale. Here it is in actual size.


I can't really complain, because it was free. However, it was hardly even worth the trip. The best thing is, in order to ring it up, they have to enter the price into the register, then deduct it. Can you believe THAT's supposed to cost 79 cents?

listening to: the like young.
in my sink: nothing.

I didn't drink last night just so I would have the money to buy a latte today.






(I'm not gay.)

listening to: The Cells, Miranda Sound, Milk at Midnight, Rock Star Club
in my sink: Baking sheet, spatula, fork.

I've filled my apartment with lilacs. It never smelled better.





(I'm not gay.)

listening to: [adult swim]. really, get into it, people.
in my sink: a gallon jug of water.

The sound sucked for Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. We complained. We got free tickets.

I was disappointed anyway. Let's face it. It's hilarious, but something about the story doesn't translate well to the big screen.

While I'm on the subject, if I may have a word with all the movie producers out there? Can you stop trying to improve older movies by just adding new effects to them? Have you learned anything from George Lucas? We've all seen so many spectacular special effects that they're no longer spectacular. The world may finally be waking up to the fact that effects, CGI, and huge explosions aren't actually what makes a movie good. You may have to start, oh, I don't know, actually writing.

listening to: Yello.
in my sink: The leaves of spring. The winter of my discontent.