oh yeah

Me: I'm going on a cruise to the caribbean on sunday.
Andi: Yeah. I was going to do that exact thing... then my accident happened.
Me: Oh. shit. I'd better be careful.
Andi: Noooo, i didn't mean it like that


Comic strip worthy.

another dream

I've had several very spiritual moments in my life where i felt completely connected to the universe and the creator. The one time that I often cite is when I was 6 years old and I laid on my driveway after doing sidewalk chalk and looked at the stars. I prayed that I would one day be a musician and play in bands for people across the world.

Last night I had a similar experience. After eating dinner, I went to hang out with Justin and Maggie so that I could spend as much time with her before she left. In the process I saw my friend, Hunter, who had just gotten back from France. Two beautiful birds in one stoney night. I came home and talked to Grease for a while. I went to sleep, but had this odd restless sensation overwhelm my body. I thought about that prayer that I made when i was 6. So I had this urge to just pray again. Like i did in the old times, ya know? So I laid there in bed. I looked out of my window in my completely alone apartment. And I prayed outloud. I confessed things that I've done and regretted, I confessed dreams bottled in, and I laid everything out. Although this seems pretty intense, it really only lasted 2 minutes.

Then I fell asleep instantly.


Here is what i dreamt:

We were all about to take a picture for your birthday.
it was at my grandparent’s old house.
We walked outside and you looked at me and gave me this long hug. When you finished hugging me, the bulls saw me.
you had a bull and a baby bull, they wanted to kill me, but they were being constrained by an old friend’s greyhound named Presta. *
There was a baby bull that was not constrained but would try and jump on me and kill me but was too weak to do so.
Once all of the girls gathered in the yard for the picture, I was still in the middle of the yard being stared down by the angry creatures.
Finally presta was too weak to hold the bull, and it came at me fast.
I was being chased around and around in the yard.
I was with someone who was close to me being chased, but I don’t know who it was.
And the bulls were definitely after me more than he. He was just afraid.
Finally I jumped over the fence and the bulls could not get me.
Your friends were waiting out in the front yard for me.
And we would gather our chairs and have a picture there.
Then I woke up.


*note: I think she’s dead in reality, but she was saving me in this dream.




Now I have no clue what this dream means. The bull could represent UT, Spain, or anything really. The fact that there is a small bull and a large bull could mean that it could represent choices, or even people that i'll meet there. The idea that I have someone helping me fight back these enemies, but that person is too weak frightens me. Fortunately I escape it in the end, and I come back to the party i guess.

This is all really frightening to wake up to.
-andy

applesauce, mashed potatoes, jello, oatmeal, etc.

With my recent removal of the ol' tonsils, i've reached a new level of dreaming. I don't know if there is necessarily a scientific explanation behind my subconscious, but i truly blame it upon the amount of oxygen that i've been able to breathe as a direct result of the surgery. I can smell and breathe significantly better, which gives me immeasurable joy when I think about the next girlfriend that I have not having to put up with my incessant snoring throughout the night. Because of this oxygen flow to my brain being more clean and direct, I truly believe that i've been sleeping better. If i haven't been dreaming better, it's a definite curiosity that i've been dreaming more. In my dream I see images of myself jamming on a banjo with some dude on the drums in a movie theater in california. I see noelle, chris ulsh, claire, and alexander biggins all huddled around playing soccer (or futball because it's european location) and passing the ball back and forth.

It's still pretty hard to talk though. With my throat swelled, talking is equivalent to walking through mud. Sex dreams happen but are often intertwined within the intermissions in my concerts in movie theaters or halftime during our futball games.

God, I can't wait until i'm fully recovered. Even though my entire entertainment is comprised of checking off movies on my to-see list, and reading books that i've had for years but never read, the thought of being utterly stupid and drunk on new years eve with friends downing jack daniels seems like a description written on heaven's "you want it, but you're not even close" travel guide. I ignore phone calls simply because it's a chore to speak to any living being. I've learned that a large amount of our relationship with dogs is audio based. No matter how much i motion for them to come to me or play with me, without the cute "Hey bailey, come heeeerreeee!", it's pointless. Rebecca and Jimmy will often times call the dogs to me, just to try and make me feel more like a functioning human being.

Regardless, I am content with my decision to remove the tonsils, and I have read and watched a large amount of really top notch shit. I just wish that everyone in the world was going through what I was, so that applesauce wasn't always compared to filet mignon.

Andy Lane's top 10 albums of 2009

Tonsillectomy Recovery Movie List:

packing for spain.

I wanna call you, but i'm afraid that i'll creep you out.

El Presidente De El Mundo

My life according to Raekwon- Only Built For Cuban Linx Pt. II



Packing for spain. Awaiting a phone call to record a song at the studio. Regretting not following the signs of my glasses twin. Nursing exhaustion, not a hang over. Gathering ornaments for my hang out with christmas tree face today. Wanting Pizza.

mmm... pizza.

Being diabolical. Hating that I must be diabolical. Thinking about my surgery. Frowning at my new years plans. Got a tan from eating too many carrots. What's that sound? I think that it's christmas.

Today I will be encouraging

I quit smoking.

And it's for good. And that IS good.


There have been lots of people in my life that have pushed me one way or another in the process of smoking (Hi, Andi). Unfortunately, the majority of the people who I hang around promote it. Even under a year ago, the two most important people in my life, Andi and Ricky, hated it. This didn't stop me.

Nowadays it's hard to find a good best friend or girlfriend who DOESN'T smoke cigarettes.

Just my luck as I quit smoking on saturday.


"WHAAaaaaAaaaaaAAAAAaat?! Why saturday?!"

Well, I graduated, duh. Don't you check facebook or hang out with me and stuff? I want cigarettes to forever be a stupid kid thing. It's either that or they become an old man dying thing. If you smoked cigarettes when you were younger, but quit, you did it because you needed to be real with your life. And if you consider cigarettes a "wild side" to your past then congratulations, you have one i guess (a wild side).

If you DON'T quit then you just get bad skin and have birth defects.


So I quit. The only problem is-- Mom and Dad think that I quit a long time ago. I don't get the satisfaction of informing them of my decision. But I shouldn't be complaining. After all, I don't deserve it one bit. First of all-- I had the habit to begin with. Second-- I hid it from them.

So there you have it. Good lungs (well, not as damaged as they could be), less anxiety, and better saturday and sunday mornings.

You won't see me in the smoker's circle outside. Come inside and keep warm with me. I'll talk your ear off. I know how to be social. After all, i AM an...


ex-social smoker,
-andy





*note: i DO recognize the greatness of a cigarette. I had some great memories and met the finest of people. But the positivity is not the subject of nicotine for me anymore. It is the subject for you, or your friend. YOU can write about that.*

she's got arms. but she's got legs.

She's got some legs.

Helps me out,
kicks me down


She's got arms.
Carries me,
lifts me,
she's got LEGS.
wraps around me,
makes me silly

She drives me,
smokes me,
sells me,
but it's not
about ME
where does SHE go
when i'm not in her home?

Where do those legs go.

Same haircut?

image consulting

When you get high, do you do what i do?

I think about myself and what i love and what i hate. I feel like those who don't smoke pot refrain from smoking because they might expand too much on what they hate. It's scary every now and then, and a large portion of drugs touch on this element of the ambiguous self identification.

So, i'll walk you through this:

I know what I am, but I also know what I want out of it. I always focus on three things-- my music self, who i am romantically attached to, and how i will continue to stay as happy as I am right now for the rest of my life (this part mainly deals with jobs and boring stuff)

In terms of music-- I have a hard time with who i am musically. The goal is to be the person that i sell. The goal is to write songs and be the image that is there in it's genuine entirety. Bob Dylan is Bob Dylan. He can pull of being who he is because he's an asshole. If people don't take shit that he says, he doesn't care. He is Bob Dylan. I want to be the modern John Denver or Cat Stevens. Anything that I can do to achieve this, I attempt. Graduating will give me sooooo much more time to work on music.

Romantically speaking-- I'm pretty happy. I just need a girl on my level. Someone who's going through what i'm going through. That way we can help each other out. I like a girl who actually gives a fuck about my music, and goes to my shows, ya know? a muse. Okay okay I guess this ties back in to music again. But that's the first rule-- any girl I date needs to know that I'm dating my music. I'm cheating on it with her.

Continuing happiness-- someone very significant told me tonight that I've always wanted to write positive songs. I didn't really realize that I told people that until she said it. She said that i've always wanted to write an Andrew W.K. song. Ok fuck. I'm talking about music again.

Well so what? I like it.

but i also like YOU and me. And your dogs. and your hair. and your glasses. and etc.

and etc.

-andrew michael, a little trunk off branches