Diablo(ws) Cody

"Don't ever agonize about the hordes of other writers who are obstensibly your competition. No one is capable of doing what you do. No one else can ever be you."

Too true, Diablo, too true.

I've had a Xanga since I was sixteen years old...
I was a MySpace whore before the masses...
I'd blog about this. Jot a note about that.

NO ONE ASKED ME TO WRITE THE INDIE VERSION OF JAMIE-LYNN SPEARS.

I'm only scribbling these thoughts down in this manner, because now coming from Minneapolis (612 district, represent!) won't seem nearly as cool or interesting after the once CityPages writer went all Los Angeles. Which leads into my second argument: now she gets to ruin Hollywood with her quirky style and paint a new way of looking at main characters, vernacular, and humor before I'll ever get a chance to.

But in light of friendly joking, mad props to you, Diablo. I secretly (well, I guess it's not that much of one now that it'll be forever documented in the interwebs of digital space!) am obsessed with her and couldn't be more inspired and excited by her work. She's creating her own path, avoiding conventionality, and sticking to what she knows, and I respect that.

Moses

Moses "Kinky" Thompson
Dec. 16, 1995 - May. 11, 2008

Today marks the tragic loss of a beloved family member...

Moses, my beautiful, baby, Bernie, brother passed today on Mother's day. I already really miss him and the house doesn't have that same nostalgic feeling it once seemed to beam with when he was around. That was the thing that was most unique about my little friend: he was always around...always there to lend an ear, or a warm, fuzzy, shoulder to lean on. Even when I moved back home from my studio in NE MPLS, he was right there by my bedside, waiting, with that twinkling glint in his eyes. He never questioned where'd I'd been, or about the choices I make...there was zero judgement whatsoever. He'd just smile at me and give a wink. And how fortunate that I moved out of my apartment when I did. I was able to have 9 truly special months with Sweet Boy. He just enjoyed the company and always kept me warm at night. As I type this, looking around my room, I can still smell his funky earwax-like scent, that I have grown to love. And it scares me the prospect of it slipping away. He was an amazing dog. We were lucky to be granted such a special magical beast to come into our lives, and our hearts. It's so wonderful to think that out of all the families and humans he came to know in his long, and full life, we were the ones he called family. The ones he recognized, relied on, and respected. It's so cute. All he ever wanted in life was to hang out with us, a good pet, a nice walk up the street, hamburger and rice, and the occasional ear session of Pooh Bear's "Little Black Rain Cloud." A pup of simplicity.

There is some comfort in knowing that he knew how much we loved him and that he had a true sense of belonging. And now he doesn't have to be in pain anymore. This is going to be hard to deal with for awhile...Mom was telling Mere and I about the Rainbow Bridge and how after dog's pass, they go here. And when we leave this physical world, we too, will cross the rainbow bridge and Moses will be waiting at the other side for us. I like that. That in a small way, gives me solace while I cope with this morbid day.