I’m around seven hours from my exodus from the Lone Star State and toward Washington, D.C. to live steps away from Capitol Hill, and hopefully, become the Ari to Dave's Vincent Chase when he decides to abandon NuTang and become a movie star. Not really too thrilled (not thrilled at all to be honest ) about leaving because I’ve got a few things I’m going to miss:


• Family. I’ll miss my momma, my dad, and sisters, especially the younger one. Like with most people I love, I do not treat them as well as I should, and I hope they realize how important they are to me.

• Anh. I’ll miss her dreadfully and I’m already starting to. She’ll be arriving at my house apx. Six hours from now to pick me up at 4:45 AM and drop me off at the airport. I pray that one day I’ll ascertain a level of command over the English language to fully describe to her the love I feel for her because I’ve yet to find the words to express how amazing she is to me.

• Texas. I’ll miss my state. I’ll miss the heat, and I’ll miss the sun, I’ll miss hearing people say “Y’all,” “Fixin’,” and “Reckin’.” I’ll miss candy painted cars, grills in mouths, Cowboy/Maverick/Spurs/Astros/Texans/UT/A&M/Rangers/Stars clothing. I’ll miss wide open spaces with nothing but grass. I’ll miss my friends down here and living with Aaron, the coolest roommate I’ve had. I’ll miss getting boba tea and What-A-Burger. I’ll miss the Pick-up trucks and the Lone Star Flag. Lastly, I’ll miss hearing “God Bless Texas” instead of “God Bless America.”

Comment! (6) | Recommend!

Why do idiots keep texting me ' happy new year ' at night? IT'S MIDNIGHT! I'm trying to sleep...




damn whippersnappers..


damn whippersnappers.

Comment! (5) | Recommend!

“Where are you going?” Ben asks me as he watches me maneuver my way across the messy living room to the front door. Maybe he's genuinely curious about my whereabouts. Perhaps he wants to tag along. Maybe he's a spy for the powers that be and is keeping detailed logs about my comings and goings. Whatever the case, every time he sees me head for the door, he asks me the same question and I reply with the same answer: "Away from you."



Benjamin has fallen down the JRR(Jon Roommate Ranking) as of late. At the beginning of the semester, he was tied for 2nd place with Matthew, a kid I roomed with for a year who was oblivious to the hideous noises he made while breathing. He's now down to five.

1.John: John was a kindred spirit to me. He was highly intelligent, like Benjamin, but he was never one to partake in bullshit philosophy debates, like Benjamin. He was dirty though.. hardly ever bathed or washed his hands, so I often hesitated when touching stuff in his room. The best thing about hanging out with John in public was our simultaneous response whenever we heard our name called.

2.Aaron: We've bonded recently over our adoration of one Hannah F. Montana. ( Two guesses on what the F stands for.)

3.Matthew: Lived with him for a year. He used to tell me about how people get caned in Singapore and that people aren't allowed to spit.

4.Adrian: Adrian and I had some good times.. We had History together freshman year and every day when we'd come back to our dorm, we'd kick the door open,
start yelling as loud as we could, stomp to our rooms, clap our hands, bang on the walls, and then slam our doors shut. Our rooms were adjacent to one another and we'd either yell into the wall or call one another whenever we wanted the other's attention instead of getting up and walking.

5.Ben: Ate my baked doritos. Ate my cheese. Ate my soul. Why isn't he lower...

6.Albert: Probably my favorite roommate because we don't speak to one another often.

7.Chern: Foreign exchange student who moved back to Malaysia. Eh.. nothing against 'em

8.Kyle: Moved in beginning of summer, left middle of summer.

9.Alex: Ate my baked doritos. Dead to me.


I'll be adding eleven more names to that list in a few weeks when I head out to D.C. I'll be living in a house on Capitol Hill with the top students of the University of Texas system..

I hope none of them eat my doritos.

Comment! (20) | Recommend!

Ben just ate my baked doritos.

Without asking.

He is now on my shitlist

People previously placed on my shitlist:
The girl who beat me up when I was four
My ex-roomate Alex, who ate my baked doritos without asking.
Ben.
Baron Davis.
Del Harris, Mark Cuban, Avery Johnson and everyone else who traded Devin Harris
Hitler.

Comment! (5) | Recommend!

It's been a few months since I was tagged(8-27-08) by that jump-skipping man of pastries and a tiger loving a Jolene, but like I never say, "better late than tomorrow."

1. I fear Catholic churches.
The giant Jesus/Mary/God/Pope JonPaulJennyMcCartneyIII portraits pictures freak me out. I duck my head every time I pass one because I fear they're going to come out and eat me or something..
I guess that's true for all giant paintings/murals. They give me the creepys. Part of the reason I go to non-denominational churches is to avoid those giant pictures of the Son of Man staring into my soul.


2. I fear Jon+size statues.
Has to do with the Catholic churches thing.. I hate being around big statues because a part of me thinks they'll come alive and want to squabble. Seeing as how A) Statues have no weakness outside of water, and B) I'm no Squirtle, I do not think I could win that confrontation unless I drank four gallons of water an hour before.

3. I pound my chest.
If I do something cool ( Shoot a 3 Pointer, prepare a good meal, wink an eye ), or see something cool ( Nowitzi hit a 3 pointer, Caitlin sending me cookies, or watch myself in the mirror wink ), I pound my chest and proclaim " RAAAAAAH! " as loudly, or softly, as I can.

4. I like to go to bed before 11 P.M
I'm an old man, I know. But as I hardly ever say, " Early to bed, early to sing the theme song to Darkwing Duck.

5. I have more guy friends than lady pals.
Contrary to what the two and a half people who read this blog regularly think, I hang out with guys more often than gals. I s'pose 'cause we have more things in common: Girls, and Football.

6. I refer to everyone as " pal," even my family.
Yeah.

7. I've had 9 roommates, about to add 11 more.
9 roommates in three years.. common denominator: Me. I'm driving 'em away.

8. I hate my volunteer job.
Working for the Rape Crisis Center is too heavy. Some nights I can't even sleep because I can't stop thinking about the victims.

9. I started blogging almost a decade ago.
Started with Livejournal around '99, moved onto Deadjournal, Ujournal, Greatestjournal, diaryland,diary-x, xanga, blurty, Caleida, and NuTang.. NuTang since the end of 03 though.

10. I trust no one.

In the words of Leonard Cohen, " I smile when I'm angry. I cheat and I lie-- I do what I have to do .. to get by."

I go through more facades in a day than a broadway actor in a season. The variety of hats I don would impress Super Mario himself.
From aloof to zealous, your boy Jon is deceitful enough to join Megatron's crew.


I've been completely honest with my thoughts and feelings three times in my life to one person. Each time I opened up, the reply was something akin to "your whole demeanor changes whenever you open up like that. I like you this way."

Comment! (14) | Recommend!

“Stooop!!!” my kid sister screams out at the two girls pinning her down to the wooden floor. She yells, screams, even squeels as two of her best friends continually tickle herinto submission at a local bowling alley. Although it’s more than s a week after her Birthday, she’s celebrating it now because this was the first weekend I could drive roughly five hours to come home. ( The trip was around seven because I had to drive an extra two hours to buy her a Wii. )
Although I’m back “home,” this town that I grew up in doesn’t feel very homely, though. Neither does the town I currently reside in, for that matter. As my girl Flannery O’Connor would say, you’re reading the words of a self-“displaced person.”

Perhaps upon completing law school (bah, humbug.. I gotta’ start studying for that LSAT again. I take it in a mere .. eight months? ), I’ll find a town somewhere on earth that I can call home.

Comment! (6) | Recommend!

"A weed is just a flower growing up on the wrong side of the garden," I say without shifting my glance from the ceiling above. "And that's the difference between you and me...

You're the flower."

Comment! (9) | Recommend!

"Jonathan," she says gently. The sound of my full name startles me so much that I grow silent long enough to let her say her peace.

"You don't always have to play Superhero. You can be human."


Not tonight, I think to myself. Probably not ever.


I've recused myself further and further into my own mind as of late. I'd like to claim that I'm under a lot of externalized pressure -- that things outside of my own sphere of influence are putting me under a lot of stress, but that would be a lie.

The highest scrutiny is what I've leveled on myself. The grandest of expectations eminante from no one else but me. The only person who is pushing me to succeed( don't ask me what "success" is, either. I haven't figured that out. ), the one person that is driving me to win, the catalyst to restless psyche is my own conscience.


And.. yeah. In a moment of weakness, I called the one person in this town I've allowed myself to be a little bit vulnerable with and asked her out for a walk. She asked if something was wrong, and I said no, and recanted my invitation and tried to hang up.. and then the above conversation took place. Now she's on her way over here and I plan to feign sleep when she begins to knock on my window.

Comment! (7) | Recommend!