Boo.

Today sucks.

And my sarcasm is flaring up. I wonder if there's a treatment for that.

Gone.

The cover of Wired's 17.09 issue caught my eye as I was doing the mail the other day. The cover image went along with one of the featured articles entitled, "Gone."

That, along with the image, caught my attention long enough for me to delve into the article (and you can actually read it online). As it turns out, the journalist had done a story earlier in the year about people faking their deaths, the digital age, etc. He took it upon himself to see if he could disappear for a while. Wired set up this contest, and people across the country dove into it, setting up Twitter accounts, Facebook pages, chat room and all to try and come together to find him.

The dude went all out. [I'll make you read the article to see if he they found him before the contest was over.] It's amazing though, how much information you can gather about someone.

I found it fascinating. The whole idea appeals to the part of me that wants to just disappear. Of course, if I did, I don't know that there would be whole chat rooms and Facebook pages dedicated to finding me. Regardless, I'm not as savvy as he was, so I'd probably make some stupid mistakes and get found out.

Haha, that's not to say I would ever actually try to figure out how to do it. But I dunno... If I had the option to disappear and start over completely somewhere, would I take it? Would you?

"Are we dancing...?"

It was almost 2 weeks ago now that I visited my old home, flitted about the old stomping grounds and soaked in the absolute beauty of the beach. My vacation was blissful to say the least, but the two days I spent in Sarasota were also a bit taxing. Not the catching up with friends, the laughter that comes so easily or the beach. But the whole mind trip that accompanied some of the quieter moments. The flood of memories that exploded, the inundation of feelings I had all but forgotten.

The first time it hit me was stepping foot on campus. It would be foolish of me to think things shouldn't be changing, expanding, growing. But wow. That's all I can really say. I can't really describe the full impact. It's something that you'd have to experience, and even then I might just be a little too sensitive. Haha.

"Our" buildings are gone. There are new dorms and studios. In fact, the state-of-the art, blah blah blah, professional as all get out studios are breathtaking. I would be lying if I didn't admit a small amount of jealousy for not being able to use them when we were there.

6 years. Has it really been that long? Can so much really change?

The visual upgrades were one thing, but like I said, those tides of emotion weren't wholly expected. It was like every step I took was a brushstroke that painted memories.

That taste of freedom, of being on my own... The terror and excitement of moving away from home... Depending on Beastie more than I should have, losing her for a few months, then finding her again and forming a bond that will last forever... The complete obnoxious fun we had in the cafeteria [much to the dismay--and dare I say jealousy?--of our peers]... That sense of purpose and accomplishment when I finished a piece, or that sense of failure when it sucked really bad... Football on the beach [especially that time I collided with 'Chusetts and we thought we had killed each other]... My first naked person... Laughing so hard whenever we were together that it hurt... Walking octopuses... The smell of the oil paint... Almost slipping and telling her I loved her [which would have been bad]... The Great Easter Sleep Off... Zombies and video games galore with the Brains of the project... All that rice I ate 2nd year because I was too lazy to make anything else... Running through campus in the pouring rain... Cheese baskets... Vermont sneezing on our walks home from work [swearing it was the light bouncing off the white walls. Except when it rained, which gave him a really good idea for a tshirt]... Conversations in Super's bathroom while she soaked in the tub... Ooops... Being betrayed, loving and being loved, finding people who I thought would be there forever but who have changed or moved on or slipped away...

I could actually go on and on and on, but I don't know how interesting it would be to anyone. I feel like a lonely old man reminiscing to the youngsters. Haha. Aren't you lucky, youngsters?

There are over 1200 pictures downstairs sitting in a box that I need to go through. If there was that much that exploded through me from being there for 24 hours, I can't imagine what looking through 4 years worth of photographs is going to do to me. But I think it has to be done.

A trip to the beach is also necessary. But next time, more friends [new and old] need to be there. Start saving pennies kids.