The wind will blow aye forever mare...

Currently in Earphones: Old Blind Dog's album, Close to the Bone

Well, time for an update methinks.

First off, I'd like to plug Preston and Patrick's hilarious, informative, and wonderfully written Rambling Rovers, a fantastic travelogue of their current wanderings across western Europe. It gets better with every new entry, and golden prose flows just as easily from the pen of one as it does the other. Check it out, you'll be glad you did.

Secondly, I've found myself returning home more often than not these past weekends. Don't get me wrong, I love the time I spend with my parents, going out to eat and watch movies, spending time and generally taking part in family bonding (though my sister has her own life which makes her rather absent on the weekends, something that makes my visits all the more appreciated by ol' mum and pop). It definitely eases on my wallet, as my wonderful parents are more than willing to take me grocery shopping upon my usual return on a Sunday afternoon.

There sadly has not been a lot keeping me in Davis; although there are a number of friends of mine still in cow town, more often than not there have been too many un-synchronized schedules. One of these days I'll get to have lunch with Julia, hang out with Lisa, or go see a movie with Lauren, but it sadly has not been any of these past weekends or even weekdays (For those of you casting a inquisitive eye toward the female roster reproduced above, I say 1. They are all purely friends or are taken, and 2. I challenge all of you to name any male friends of mine staying in Davis this summer). However, I hope to get my ass in gear and start being more sociable soon as I get some space in my schedule.

On the material front, I blitzed through the newest Harry Potter in about a day (that would be all of Saturday evening and all of Sunday morning), mostly due to the fact that I only had my hands on it for this past weekend and that it was the most gripping installment to date. I will admit that my interest was similarly piqued two other times in the series: once when getting into how dark and twisty Chamber of Secrets was, and once when I finished Goblet of Fire and found out that JK Rowling had taken the gloves off. While this series has never made me fear too badly for the lives of its protagonists (unlike, say, George R.R. "I'll kill off whoever I jolly well please" Martin's Song of Ice and Fire series), I do have to say that Deathly Hollows made me pretty twitchy and misty, the former before and the latter after it's numerous casualties.

Though they might seem minor in comparison to the giant bomb that was dropped at the end of Half-Blood Prince, I found myself more affected by the deaths in the following book. Why, you ask? I can't rightly say. Perhaps it was the logical peak of the pyramid after killing off a character a book since Goblet of Fire, maybe because we had virtually no background to such a central character and thus no great reason for sympathy (must....not....give away....spoilers!), but the climax of HBP didn't do terribly much for me. I definitely had a bit of a jaded streak going there before the final installment, but have been fairly well mollified by this last chapter in the series. For those who may have thrown up their hands somewhere around GOF/Order of the Phoenix, keep reading. You will be rewarded.

Can't wait for the Encore Edition of Guitar Hero, it's gonna be ten tons of fun, even though I don't generally like 80's pop. I'm sure the great taste of Harmonix will find some diamonds in the rough for my enjoyment. I'm already excited about Dio's Holy Diver, as Phil can most likely attest to my gushings on the subject.

As to the return of Anja, I am still ambivalent, but have been falling into the cold acceptance of whatever may come being simply an epilogue to our story. Should I abandon the last sliver of hope that remains, before it is crushed out of me? Or should I keep it alive, for that one small voice in my head that continues to say "Perhaps you are mistaken....perhaps...."

She has suffered enough, and though I have select barbs I may wish to say, I cannot bring myself to say them, for it would only be salt in a wound that no doubt has seen enough re-opening. Gah, I cannot assuage my own pain at the expense of hers. It's all so twisted. I want to be her friend, but I don't yet know if I can handle simply being that, if I will want to be completely hers again. I'm such a fool.


Enough, More Later.
- James