With Spring semester finished, I’m finding myself with an incredible amount of free time. There is only so much time I can devote to sitting in cafes writing, so I often end up laying in bed, watching a movie on my laptop.

All of my friends and co-workers know my love for terrible movies. I’m talking straight up horrible, critically panned films. They make me laugh and feel better about myself… but afterwards, I usually realize I’ve wasted two hours of my life that I could have used to read, write some more, or play with my chinchilla.

As a result, I’ve given myself a new personal rule. Every time I watch a terrible movie on purpose I’ll have to purchase a new classical book that I haven’t read, or haven’t read since I was in high school. This rule doesn’t count if I thought the movie was going to be good, and it turned out being awful, such as The Golden Compass.

I only started doing this to myself two weeks ago, and here’s the movie watched / book purchased list so far.

Skinwalkers / The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde
Timeline / The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane
PS I Love You / Les Miserables by Victor Hugo
Doomsday / The Wasteland & Other Writings by T.S Eliot
10,000 BC / The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper

I’m hooked on picking up Borders’ editions of classic books, especially because they look so nice sitting on the bookshelf.

Heather’s birthday party is coming up. Heather and I will be watching Diary of the Dead and Zombie Strippers during the course of the weekend to celebrate, since she’s seen almost every single zombie movie… except these two recent ones.

I wonder, what two books will I buy after that.

Today I bought some Rogaine and it wasn’t my intention
To lose my hair at 25 and hate my own reflection.

It was once long and wild, stylish, yet messy
In the vein of John Stamos, who once played Uncle Jesse.

But now it’s fading fast, and I don’t know what to do
Soon I’ll look like Bruce Willis, while filming Die Hard 2.

I can’t pull off that bald look, and Heather, it’d be really mean,
If you decided to leave me, for resembling Mr. Clean.

And it it doesn’t work, I hope you’ll still give me a kiss.
When I’m bald and posing for pictures…

… looking just like this.

When the movie Good Luck Chuck came out, and consequently swept the Oscars with multiple wins, I heard about it from various friends across the country. Everyone, after seeing this piece of cinematic garbage, couldn’t resist the urge to call me and give me the great news. That a movie, practically based on my life, had been released.

The movie tells a story of Chuck, who, after women sleep with him, they find their one true love. Thanks everyone, for helping me making this connection to my real life, since every single one of my ex-girlfriends, even ones I didn’t sleep with, are now either engaged or married… to the guy they immediately dated after me.

Hard to believe? Check this fact out. (#1) When I was 15, after we broke up, my very first girlfriend met her life partner. You heard me. She’s a lesbian. I guess I was a bad kisser? Hahah… LOL… hee-hee… *sobs hysterically into hands*

I couldn’t help but think about this today, as I uploaded this new photo gallery onto Flickr. (#2) It’s of Steph, one of my ex-girlfriend’s from my days at Ramapo, and her wedding to one of my best friends, Glen. I know that sounds weird, but there’s a complicated back-story to the whole thing. I didn’t know Glen until he and Steph got back together when we had broken up, and once he transfered to my college, we became inseparable. I was a groomsman at the wedding.

I got Steph a sword for her wedding present. Glen and I told her to try it on. It was awesome.

They’re both visiting me here in Philly this weekend. And no Glen, you can’t have sex on my couch. Stop saying that you’re going to do that.

I’m heading to (#3) Christina’s wedding in June, a girl who I dated for quite a while at Ramapo, where I will undoubtably take photos that are better than the hired wedding photographer’s. Despite a break-up and an attempt at friendship full of turmoil and fights, we became friends again, and chit-chat on AIM regularlly. And I’m happy about that.

However, it’s important to note that this little curse isn’t limited strictly to Ramapo. (#4) The psycho girl who I dated at Kean, who everyone hated and made fun of, who thought Linkin Park counted as punk rock (shut up Tim), is getting married to the guy she started dating immediately after I broke up with her in a memorable and devastating way. What can I say, I’m old fashioned.

This of course, brings us to now. Heather and I are together, insanely happy, and I love her something terrible. Heather, you’re not allowed to break-up with me. My heart couldn’t handle seeing you with anyone else. Not even Brian.

Seriously, why is my life a movie?

So recently, I went up to visit Heather, and we spent some time volunteering at the Ronald McDonald house in the suburban area of Albany, NY. Heather and her fraternity made some food for the local hospital, whipping up some tacos and Mexican dishes.

I spent a lot of time walking around the house and taking photos of the old mansion. It was a pretty shocking experience, seeing this beautiful place. I mean, McDonalds is a pretty terrible company, right? They’re responsible for a wealth of economic problems, the fattening of America, they are THE example of globalization, and a list of other things that I’m probably not educated enough to comment on. Afterall, I’m an English major.

But after seeing this, maybe they aren’t so bad.

Or perhaps that’s what they want me to think.

*shrug*

I’m the big squirrel. She’s the little squirrel.

I love the way you grumble when I wake you up at 11:00am. I love how we talk like Cuteoverload writers in public. I love how our respective nicknames for each other are based on the pets we own. I love that I don’t care about spending $200 on a train ticket, just as long as I can get a $3 slice of pizza with you. I love how you tell people I’m taking you to the prom in public, making me look like a creepy old guy, when it’s really your sorority’s formal. I love that you’re painfully out of my league, but still give me the time of day anyway. I love how we look as cartoons.

Most of all, I love that you’re probably going to make fun of me for writing this.

Thanks to Sara for helping me pick this cute Valentine’s Day gift out, and to Marnie for making it!

Oh Ashlee, you were so cute when you were just a little baby bun. Back when I thought you were a boy. And your name was Ash. Now you’re so chubby that you get stuck inside soup pots.

The bun turned one today. She was six weeks old that fateful weekend when I got her at the end of March, and by that logic, her birthday is sometime this weekend. I’ve decided to make it on Valentine’s Day, because well, it’s easier to remember.

Heading up to Albany this weekend to celebrate Valentine’s Day with Heather. Can’t wait.

And to everyone who hates on Valentine’s Day, just shush. Sure, we should show the people we love how much we care about them everyday of the year, but your reasoning just doesn’t work. That’s like saying we should celebrate Christmas everyday, because we all should show our love for Jebus through our the year. Or Easter. Or St Patrick’s Day. Or Thanksgiving. Or Boxing Day, whatever the hell that is.

If we celebrated each of those holidays every single day of the year, we’d be broke from buying too many presents, stepping on eggs all over the damn place, drunk off our asses, extremely obsese, and then depressed because we’ve been  giving away all the presents we recieved. Society would crumble, the world would be in shambles.

So do your part, and celebrate Valentine’s Day, damn it.

Heather likes to poke fun at my eBay and Craigslist addictions, claiming that if I ever buy her an engagement ring in a “buy now” auction or in some alley on South St, she’ll kick my ass.

Of course, I couldn’t resist seeing what actually came up when doing this kind of search. Amazon.com has some interesting results, most of which are horrible pieces of rip-off jewelry that you could purchase at your local Claire’s or Delia’s (those bitches are cheap).

However the best thing about doing a search like this, is learning what people before me also purchased in addition to their jewelry.

It’s nice to know that in between games of Madden and Crackdown, d00ds are able to pick up a little something for the future Mrs.

So I turned 25 a week ago. I stressed to my friends not to get me anything, and they know better anyway. I’m not big on material things. When I get tired of a video game, a movie, a new electronic gadget, *whoosh!* up it goes on eBay. So you better believe I was surprised at the gifts some of my friends came up with anyway.

Above is a gorgeous painting done by my friend Katie Regenye. Katie creates some seriously beautiful artwork, and I’m pretty upset that this photo does it zero justice. The lighting in my apartment just doesn’t illuminate it properly. She uses tons of color and little pieces of scrap thrown onto the canvas, like Easter basket grass, plastic bracelets, bits of wood, etc. The result is something truly unique, and I’m thrilled to have this hanging in my room…

… even if it did fall down on my face when I was sleeping the other night. I need to hang it up better.

My vixen of a girlfriend and my pal Alexis both made me pillows! The same dimensions and everything! Ah, the universe is so strange.

Heather made hers out of the t-shirt she bought from me when I first met her. When I was on tour with Foster, I spent some time running their merch table, and sold Heather this dark red t-shirt. This is, of course, inexplicably sweet and cute. Lex made a pillow with a picture of my bunny, Ash, on it. So awesome!

Eat your hearts out, Etsy people. Hee-hee.

This all makes me wish I had some sort of crafty talent aside from photography, but perhaps that is something I can consider this Christmas. Some sort of cute, personalized photographs for good friends and family, rather then my standard getting-people-DVDs-cause-I-don’t-know-what-else-to-get tactic.

Made me want to sign up for Buy Handmade. Check it out.

I’ve never really had a real birthday party before. I mean, I had a bunch when I was a little kid. The usual deal. Chuck-E-Cheese, Sports World, rollerskating, etc. But once you hit a certain age, your parents stop taking you and your friends to fancy, exotic places like Bowcraft, and start substituting Dunkin Donuts munchkins or cupcakes for your class. Then, that starts to disappear, and birthdays slowly become just like any other day, with the exception of the occasional awesome present.

When I turned 21, I had a serious throw down at my buddy Joel’s apartment near Philadelphia on his b’day, October 24th, with plans to party late into the next day. On the way to partying on the 25th, the car broke down, and we spent my 21st birthday at a Pep Boys. The night before was at least awesome though.

This year, living in a city on my own, I decided to do things differently, especially since I was hitting the big, scary two-five.

Lots of my friends came in for some serious partying from all over. I spent the greater part of Friday getting things ready and spending time with my girlfriend, who surprised me by making some amazing monster cupcakes with my roommate Tess.

They were insanely delicious. More photos soon.

When the night hit on Saturday, lots of great friends from home and college, a few new ones from Philadelphia, my rockin’ roommates, and my lovely girlfriend all came out to dress up in costumes, eat lots of snacks, and drink all of my Arbor Mist. The original plan was to bar hop around Old City, but as more people poured into the apartment, everyone was just way too comfortable. And that was just fine with me.

I was heavily dedicated to my costume as Thorny from Super Troopers. So much so that my roommate and I downed half a bottle of maple syrup, just to see who was, in the almighty words of Thorny, “all that is man.” The answer? My roommate. Man that stuff was gross.

The Halloween costume contest was won, hands down, by my friends Darlene and Cristina. They dressed as Naomi Campbell (Cristina on the right) beating up her executive assistant (Darlene on the left) with her cell phone. We captured an action shot, and Darlene had a fabulous black eye painted on. Good job guys!

A lot of my friends were telling me that this is the golden birthday and therefore, the golden year, since I turned 25 on the 25th. So, here is to making this an amazing year. I already know I’ll be finished with my MFA and my second book, so lets see what else can get added to that list.

Life is good.

Here’s to another good year.

Want to see more? Take a look at the Flickr account, and prepare to smile.

A few weeks ago, I commissioned my favorite online comic artist, Anthony Clark, to create a painting of Heather and I. If you haven’t heard of this guy, well, shame on you. He does some seriously wonderful work, comics and paintings that genuinely make you laugh, consistently funny without ever becoming perverse or absurd. I even own a few prints of his. I’m especially fond of his wandering robot series. Go visit his site, and prepare to smile.

Someone really needs to finish his Wikipedia entry. He just has his name listed. Dude deserves more, and is way better then the guy who played the barber in The Rock.

I gave the print to Heather as a surprise. Not for an anniversary or anything, though I sort of intended it to be for that, but just because. Presents and little expressions of love shouldn’t just be set aside for special occasions or lame designated holidays.

You love someone, you tell them. Go out of your way to do something wonderful. Hire an artist you both love, take them on a special date (or make a show about said date), do something, just don’t be that couple who end up being those sad sacks sitting in restaurants, not speaking to one another, and wondering how the hell they got there. I’ve seen too much of that lately.

God, we are so damn cute.

Thanks Anthony.