Once upon a time, back in the days of High School yore, I was walking through a rather intriguing and magical shop owned by an interesting character known as Spencer. He had, appropriately, named his shop Spencer's, filled will gadgets, toys, and nostalgic gifts of wonder. Amongst the shelves, I discovered a variety of enchanted pills, one bottle in particular catching my eye. Fuck-It-All Oh, how I wish these pills were real. Just ... fuck it all. FUCK IT ALL. Many, I'm sure, have been wondering where I've been and I offer a very simple group of answers. First, I felt the time was drawing nearer for me to disappear. Perhaps this was fueled by the fact that David and Shannon filed for divorce and are now in a rather ugly custody battle over Dakota - which, of course, I get stuck in the middle of, simply because I'm the uncle ... and apparently the only level-headed one out of both families, as this seems to have instigated a feud of sorts between the Glovers and the Barkleys. Being trapped inbetween, I am forced to take a side - there can be no neutrality in this argument. And thus, when faced with the option of a flying fist with brass knuckles and the bite of a rabid dog, I chose, quite simply, Dakota. When this decision did not satisfy the angry mob, I left. I packed my things, and I moved. I'm now living on my own in Owensboro and only one person knows where - and she is, most undoubtedly, unrelated to me. This is the first time I've ever lived entirely on my own - it's a little frightening sometimes, being alone, but it does have its perks. Just Lee, me, and an apartment all to myself. It's so quiet. So very, very quiet. And though it can be lonely at times, it is a good change for me. Of course, thanks to all the drama and sudden onslaught of stress brought on by the slamming of financial difficulty brought on by the sudden move out on my own, my health has suffered, my school work has suffered, so I'm taking some time off from school. "But Seth, you're so close. Don't give up." I'm not giving up, I'm just taking a break. If I had the monetary means, I'd relocate to India or someplace where I could have a retreat with a bona fide guru much like the Beatles. But I don't, so I settle for the occasional visit to my second home, the DGTL Buddhist monastery in Bloomington. Is it wrong of me to feel the need to avoid school and friends (save for a select few) like the plague? Maybe it is a bit selfish of me to, you know, disappear without telling anyone where or why I was going ... seems heartless - and I'm sorry. At the time, it felt right, but now I regret having not told several people at least that I was going to be gone for a while. To be honest, I didn't know how long I was going to be gone, or even if I was coming back. I walled myself up for the entire month of February, only emerging from the cave that is my new home on occasion for work or food. This first half of March, well, I started to come out a little more, even went to a party Friday night ... St. Patrick's Day. Me? At a party? It would seem that an old friend from high school had been in town for a while and was trying to get in touch with me, finally, Spiff told me and said there was a party that very night ... and so I took a shower, combed my hair, threw on my green sweater and went. Many drunken folk were there, and I felt like a fish out of water - as if cliche's weren't bad enough already. Spiff couldn't stay long as she had a remote to run at the station, which left me alone to fend for myself in the sea of bodies intoxicated from the mass intake of Irish Car Bombs and Guiness. I had half of a decent conversation with my old high school buddy, as he was quickly on his way to plastered status ... but I did meet at least one other mostly-sober person there. His name was Jay and we hit it off oh-so-well. Especially when we were sitting on the 110-year-old "Harry Potter" staircase, and he was talking about how he'd love to take me out sometime, and I said "You know I'm a guy, right?" Because, you know, I'd seen him drink an Irish Car Bomb earlier, so I wasn't sure. He looked at me with wide eyes and said "NO SHIT, DUDE! YOU'RE A DUDE!? I thought you said your name was Steph, not Seth! Fuck man, my mistake!" Which prompted a laugh from me and his confession that he wouldn't be offering to take me out if I was, indeed, a girl. So now it is that I have an unofficial boyfriend. I say "unofficial boyfriend" because neither of us are fond of the term "significant other" and I've always had issues with the word "lover" ... I don't know why. I still like the term "intimate companions." Nothing intimate beyond a hug and a kiss on the cheek has happened - we've been on one date as he succeeded in convincing me to go out Saturday night to a Flat Stanley concert. Silly me said "okay" - and thus I was reminded of why I left the smokey, cramped, loud bar scene in the first place - but also reminded of my love for the group Flat Stanley. And so it is that we are up to date. Yesterday, I was going through a couple of boxes that I had neglect to unpack (because I kinda just shoved them under the bed), and I found my novel ... and such a flood of memories came ... and suddenly, I realized just how much time had passed since I last had any real contact with the world ... Someone, please, make time slow down. IN OTHER EXISTENTIAL QUANDRIES ... ... why is there no "update" option for my page layout? I want so desperately to change the colors ... but it's rather pointless when you fill out the form and there's no "update" button ... ... WTF, mate? P.S. I know there were a couple really cool pics in this entry, but I had to take them down. Someone had stolen Charlotte's artwork and put it on their Deviant page and that shit just doesn't fly with me. I'll post more at another time - and not just fancy-smancy photography pics, but, like, real pics ... you know, sometime ... when cameras decide to stop stealing my soul.