The current contents of my Loving Music playlist:

1. Air - People In The City
2. Air - Venus
3. Andain - Beautiful Things (Gabriel & Dresden Mix)
4. Aphex Twin - Flim
5. Aphex Twin - On (Mu-Ziq Remix)
6. Beastie Boys - Transitions
7. The Cardigans - Happy Meal
8. Cornelius - Drop
9. Daft Punk - One More Time
10. Daft Punk - Something About Us
11. Daft Punk - Veridis Quo
12. Daft Punk - Make Love
13. The Hazzards - Let’s Get Romantic
14. Kate Ryan - Desenchantee (Dance Remix)
15. LMC - Take Me To The Clouds Above (Radio Edit featuring U2)
16. Outkast - My Favorite Things
17. Prefuse 73 - Afternoon Love-In
18. Stardust - Music Sounds Better With You
19. Telefon Tel Aviv - Fahrenheit Fair Enough
20. Telefon Tel Aviv - Introductory Nomenclature
21. Telefon Tel Aviv - Fahrenheit Far Away
22. Utada Hikaru - Distance

I like this image, but I don’t know where it came from. Reminds me of Osamu Tezuka.

This past Saturday night I stepped on a piece of glass while leaving my brother’s room to go to bed. I pulled out the inch long sliver, and only noticed the wound once I had reached my own room 2 flights of stairs up. At the time the piercing seemed fairly tame, but upon closer examination the follow morning, the true degree of the injury became apparent.

The sliver of glass had gone about a quarter inch into my foot, but in only a small amount of space. The bleeding was minimal as the cut had mostly hit muscle. I couldn’t be sure whether any glass remained. I taped on some kleenex and went to school the next day. Much to my pride, my foot preformed admirably. No pain at all.

Today, I walked much more (about a mile, not including school: to and from the bus stop and Hannah’s house.), and the pain came back. The piercing sensation returned on every other step, prompting my to soak it tonite. After preforming some minor amateur surgery (Somewhat of a hobby of mine ^_^), no glass was to be found.

Sad… I’m still soaking it as a write this. I’m in no more pain, but the curiousity of my circumstances remains. If my brother had properly cleaned up the drinking glass he had dropped on his floor, this never would have happened. He still has the glass shard sitting on his keyboard: I’m going to ask it back from him.

My Dad has always had this curious misunderstanding of my sexuality. It’s not that he fears I’m gay, because he knows I’m not, or even that he would mind if I was, but more that he isn’t sure exactly that I’m straight either…

He points to the fact that I know the difference between a bun and a half-pony. How I have a small swarm of girls who consider me to be a safe-guy-friend. How I have large posters of attractive men on my wall. How I’m the secretary of my school’s Gay/Straight Alliance.

I guess it’s because I’m not exactly straight. I find other guys attractive, but I doubt that’s a shock to anyone who spends time with me. I doesn’t really matter, and labels don’t help. My Dad knows that, he just has to trust me.

When it comes to the rest of the world, people will bone who they want: Any action to disrupt that is depriving people of a right. What makes the world happy is most important, and that is my moral viewpoint.

[This post scheduled for Sunday was belatedly posted Monday night. Sorry. ~ Ed.]