acknowledgement

"Five Little Graves" by The Ivory Coast

is there any way to know that I'm lying,
that my best foot is forward
and that I'm really trying?
must be the face that I make
when I'm straining to keep you
the distance of what I'm really thinking of you

it's the end of the affair
I'm so glad we could come to terms
with the worst part of ourselves
with the worst part of ourselves

is there any way to know that I'm lying
that my best foot is forward
and that I'm really trying?
must be the face that I make
when I'm straining to keep you
the distance of what I'm really thinking of you

I'm so glad we could come to terms
with the worst part of ourselves
outliving the original feeling that
made it all make sense

I'm so glad we could come to terms
with the worst part of ourselves
outliving the original feeling that
made it all make sense
outliving the original feeling that
made it all make sense
outliving the original feeling that
made it all make sense
outliving the original feeling that
made it all make sense
outliving the original feeling that
made it all make sense

the moment you start thinking about her

Because all of the ways you think she could help you are really ways you need to help yourself.

Because the songs she played for you would be great even if she wasn't the one who played them for you, but she did and that's better.

Because she's flawed, and all you can think is that you're flawed too.

Because you have faith in her even when she doesn't have faith in herself.

Because all of the ways you want to help her you can't.

the moment you stop thinking about her

When you realize that her making you a better person was just you making you a better person.

When you realize that her favorite songs were not your favorite songs, but your favorite songs of her's.

When you realize that the reasons why you were meant to be together were not the reasons why you were meant to be together, but reasons that you wanted to be the reasons why you were meant to be together, because you wanted to be together.

When you realize that you want to be together and not because of reasons that you want to be the reasons why you are meant to be together, but because you want to be together.

boots on a stump

The first house west of Woodward on some street in Ferndale (Saratoga, I think) has a pair of boots fastened in some fashion to a stump that's painted white sitting out front. The stump is tucked just under the edge of the bushes at the front of the house. This made me think it was put there just as the boots obviously were. When I saw them today, the boots were colored green from a recent lawn mowing. I couldn't imagine any other reason for such an arrangement than a dedication to a friend who had passed away. Whether or not that was its meaning, I was touched by the potentially intended sentiment. I thought about this maybe dead man (or woman) in the past standing on the stump, previously rooted in the house's backyard - maybe his own. On Friday or Saturday nights this guy would love to elevate himself several inches above his gathered friends and make some special announcement. Maybe he was famous for telling stories on that stump. He would stretch tall to demand attention and bend low to whisper at a dramatic moment in his tale. Or perhaps the stump was a shared stage for joke telling and karaoke; retired now. The white paint on the stump made the boots stand out, rather than blend in with the wood underneath. It seemed a fitting tribute.

the Quiz (a work in progress)

1. What do you want to do before you die?

I want to see Abu Simbel. I want to ride the subway in New York. I want to run a marathon. I want to be put up in the hospital. I want to have a piece of my writing published. I want to write a song. I want to eat sushi in a restaurant in Japan. I want to feel like I have no responsibilities. I want to see the band Halloween, Alaska live. I want to get married outside. I want to see a live platypus. I want to finish a New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle all on my own. I want to meet Simon Pegg. I want to survive an entire day eating nothing but bananas. I want to compile a decade's worth of monthly playlists. I want to own an electric car. I want to brew my own beer. I want to own and read every book by Kurt Vonnegut. I want to sleep for fourteen consecutive hours. I want to steal a street sign. I want to try curling and feather bowling. I want to visit Easter Island.

(6/11/2010)

Effulgence records

When I was eighteen or so I started my own "record company" called Effulgence. My logo was a bold-faced asterisk, and I numbered my records eff001, eff002, etc.

Of course, I had no connections with actual bands or actual music production equipment. My fun with this idea came from a keen interest in compiling mixes of my favorite songs into well-segueing playlists to fit 80 minute CD-Rs. I got the moniker from a poem by a friend/online-crush named Laura who lives in Vermont and lost my attention when I learned she drank. Mark's Hard Lemonade and an affinity for Jack Daniel's... two things that have plagued me ever since. She was the first person to give me a mix CD - for Christmas - and two songs from it still stand out in my mind: "Pretty Girls Make Graves" by the Smiths, and "Beautiful Freak" by Eels. The latter was the final track on the disc, and I believed that she wanted to be the freak: gorgeous in my eyes, and my eyes only, because one source of affection was all she needed. I spent some time combining spectacular songs into an anthology of my emotions in musical form. I decorated it with a large sharpied star, added eff001 in the bottom-right corner and mailed the CD to her; or I didn't mail the CD to her. In a haze of whiskey it's difficult to remember. In the following months, through AIM conversations I came on too strong. We grew apart, and at the time it was devastating. I have never been able to separate myself from moments of extreme heartache and longing. Everything exists in that instant. If I have any sort of good fortune it is counteracted by my inability to see my feelings in future-tense. I can plan for financial stability but my emotions are the shotgunned side of a dog whose caught rabies and still just won't die before another chance to sink his teeth in.

So several things stayed from that assembled selection of memories. I still make mixes. In fact, that aspect has been magnified. I burn a new CD every month. In my own way of accelerating my life, each new collection is more my thoughts and hopes in lyrical form. Beside, my ability to crumble at the feet of love has driven deeper. Living in the moment has left me trapped in the moment. Effulgent, I am, in making love my priority.

For all the CDs I've burned since eff004 - or wherever I left off - Effulgence records is no more.

reprises and priorities

Another day of lapsing judgements. Another day of different intentions. Another moment of music making memories of ideas I didn't pen, or kept as secrets on my bedroom shelf. I am angry with the thoughts I keep from her, and it is difficult and wrong to shoot their arrows at her when she offers me so much with her company. But I need guidance to get me through, and more than anything she is my closest friend. I am finding footholds where my own well-being wins for once. Some faces I call friends, some enemies, and some don't answer the phone.

It's always better looking back. Now I have an unintended chapter: Winter, 2010, that my heart turns to for proof.

stacking your own deck

The tower of cards is collapsed. I see myself smiling in the rubble. Hearts and spades at my sides.

I pick through the debris around me. All that I have been or meant to be made of, now disconnected. One slip sitting next to me catches my eye, and I raise it to catch the sunlight. Patience: enjoying the here and the now, and not mourning what you miss. Time so often taunts me with its passing. When did an afternoon with a book become boring? and when did boring become evil? In the paper pieces I see too many tiers of over-exertion and disenchantment. This is not all me; so much is just faces and numbers. Now is another opportunity to replace my priorities. I know the wind will blow again of change and test me to trust in who I am. I reach for more building material: The folly of being everyone's friend. The fear for fitting in. The jealously and comfort of following in someone's footsteps. This is not my card.

everyone has defined everything in every way

Everyone has defined everything in every way. Look hard enough and you can find the words you want to hear. It is possible and dangerous to make your favorite songs seem relevant. You're only fooling yourself that you are incapable of making your own meaning. We can all wield a special kind of self-focus that generously shares with the world what we're thinking. We are all poets, and every moment is another chance to stand by what we really feel. Open up your heart: you will not be afraid of what you find.

the sun is out

To the sound of a CD starting in my alarm clock at the foot of my bed, my day begins. Eyes half closed and clutching the blankets, I reach over my head to pull the shade and see what the sky has to say. Sometimes it's grey, a bleak half-brightness that turns me under the sheets for five more eyes-closed minutes. And sometimes it's sun and warmth, drawing me up and out and on with life. I am ready to move; I am ready to breathe the air outside. Times like these of such unassumed energy, I want to thank the World for something magical I've been awarded. But maybe it was me all along, who knew this heat and happiness. Maybe I made it, and could honor myself and the sun. Maybe a quiet pride would be okay.

scars to prove it

If this could not fall to bad timing, or our own malfunctions, wouldn't that be the proper ends? For all my careful planning, I cannot see past my own misplaced musings. Even these reassuring thoughts are surely over-saturation, when patience must mean moving on. Her constant influence has always been surprise. Still she shakes me with so much sense to trump my emotional enchantment. Maybe writing this down will tell me that I am in no place to make my claims. I am as fucked in the head as the rest of us.

life after vacation

Last week I took my first non-Christmastime vacation from RingSide. I had accrued so many vacation hours that if I didn't take time off when I did, I was going to stop earning more. It just goes to show how long overdue it was. My plans were simple: stay home and do nothing.

Of course it couldn't be completely nothing, but I definitely succeeded in relaxing and relieving myself of obligations. The biggest event of the entire week was seeing Spoon at the Royal Oak Music theater on Tuesday. Sarah was supposed to go with me, but broke her kneecap and was stuck in the hospital. I went on my own and tried to enjoy the show without her. More than half of the setlist was non-Transference, and I even took out my phone and noted the songs they played. I intended to burn a CD of all the songs, but with the encore their show was almost an hour and a half!

Wednesday I donated blood for the first time since I got my tattoo. I talked to one of the ladies about moving to Ferndale for my work, and how it distracted me from giving blood regularly like I used to. She told me about the health benefits of getting rid of old blood so your body can replenish it with new, and that made a lot of sense to me. Thursday the Ferndale Bike Club had a pre-season ride in the evening. As the Junior Ambassador, I am getting better at striking up conversation with strangers and not being so afraid of what they think of me. We rode for an hour or so around the Ferndale/Oak Park neighborhood, had dinner at the Emory and afterwards went to Liz's where we put together a calendar of rides with specific dates. Friday I went to Somerset and bought myself a new sweatshirt that I'm going to stencil with the Bike Club logo and at night went with my friend Cori and her friend to Cliff Bell's to see some live jazz. There was a great trio that plays the first Friday of every month, and they had a lady join them to sing on some songs. She sang three Frank Sinatra covers, and that was pretty cool. Saturday Alex and I drove out west to stay at our parent's for the weekend. Beforehand we went to Briarwood and hung out for a while before Kenny got off work and then hung out with him at his apartment. We met up with Ben later that night after the MSU game and played pool at Sticks in Depot Town.

Sunday my mom cooked Easter dinner and my Dad's sister and her husband and my Mom's sister came over. After eating we played dominoes for a few hours. Alex decided to stay at his parent's an extra night so I came home and ended my vacation with a walk around the neighborhood and managed to get to sleep by 1:00.

Today was a pretty great first day back. I can tell that having time off did me a lot of good... and, seeing as we had Good Friday off anyway, I used one less vacation day than I thought I was going to. I'm thinking of doing another week off again sometime this year.

the Spring began with cold

What caught me off-guard was how I did not feel like crying, it only came. At some moment everything she said was making sense, and I was not afraid anymore. She was fighting for us all along. We would have to learn how to be apart. We would find ourselves, first, before each other.

As she drove off with her friend, she left me with a sense of youthful naiveté; I was renewed and unsure of what these days would do to me. I turned on the music to a newfound energy. I was setting out, but where to go? and how to get there?

March showers bring April floods

I skim over poems when I read them, seeking answers in their brevity. Same as when I write; to the point and under the dust of cryptic words. Rhythm and melody as scribbles in ink: all similes and alliteration. Always my black notebook is poised for recording the next mixtape gem or life-altering moment maker. That path is already part of my past and it hearkens me to return. To fall at the feet of my own good ideas and believe they carry weight. Crying over my own sentiment only means I'm being self-indulgent. It was meant to be your happiness. I can convince myself, but I find that my heart's match may not be so easily persuaded. Or I am making substance from the breaths in our conversation, they hold hopes for only moments 'til we turn our tired eyes to opposite sides of the bedroom.

Moving on. Another shot at a catch phrase for finding love.

in like a very sunny lion

It was a warm Sunday in early March.

The night before I went out drinking with my roommate, Alex. We had intended to celebrate our friend Dan's birthday, but he took a last minute trip across the state and neglected to inform us. I was already two glasses and a shot of whiskey down when I found out, and it was his birthday after all, so I didn't mind much. I had been awake since 8:00 that morning so I could give Sarah a ride to work, and while I had braced for a long night, heading home to instant sleep in a few hours sounded wonderful. After I finished my first pint of beer we moved to another bar serving food. The jukebox skipped one of my favorite songs, and we chatted for an hour or so about this and that before I admitted how tired I was. We walked home, forgetting that the day's warmth was no longer with us. There was still a line of people outside Rose O' Grady's; I only shivered when we walked past them.

This morning I woke at 10:00 without an ounce of a hangover. I made some coffee and sat in bed reading the book Julie let me borrow last year that I've been trying to finish. Alex had asked me to wake him up at 11:00 so we could get breakfast, but remembered that his mom was taking him to lunch. I made myself an egg sandwich and opened all the windows of the living room. I lit some incense and let the sound of the birds mingle with Tape's Rideau. This is how I wake myself on weekends. Welcoming the day and being thankful for all its hours offer. Afterwards was breathing in the practically-spring air; taking a first jog of the year and helping Sarah make a poster for her uncle's candle business.

Tomorrow will be warmer, and that is something magical. Something undefinable and out of reach. Like the way a woman's long skirt sways as she walks: her hips swinging with the melody of the sunshine. She does not look at me, I am simply in awe. At that moment she is above our human feelings, out of any love she might feel and only embraced by the Day for how she moves. Even if she turns to see me staring, and smiles, we are not connected. I believe in that moment it is the joy of living that shines on her face. A radiance I am in no league with, and must sit in silent appreciation of, because it will be gone when she speaks.

thank you, February

Thank you, February, for flying by. In recent years, you have stuck around like ice on my car in a snowstorm. An even four weeks of misery and shivering and chattering my teeth at every stoplight on my way to work. No schedule could be busy enough to distract me from the bleak white outside the forced-air heat of the office where I work. When I wrap myself in scarves and make my way home for the evening, you are cruel enough to shroud the sky with clouds. I am restless when I return, and wool sweaters are never enough to keep the winter air from reaching my bones and drying my skin and as I cling to a blanket, nursing a cup of tea. But this year, you let me peek out from under your cloak of cold depression and I discovered my own warmth outside the weather. Perhaps it was my old friend and new roommate, Alex, who kept me from setting myself into patterns of inactivity - simply with his presence. I sometimes hear him creaking the floorboards of the upstairs where he sleeps; a reminder hanging over my head indeed. Maybe new windows or a better heated house have insulated me from your torments, or a confidence in my career that has me far from being overwhelmed. I place my own appreciation in my new love. A woman who is so much more to me than a kiss and kind words, or a warm body sleeping beside me. Her tiny smiles and the way she holds her cats keep me eyes-closed and smiling as your wicked wind burns my face. Her songs are a part of my soundtrack, and I am dreaming of our summer together under warmer days than you would ever yield. I am complacent and lost in her eyes, while you are attempting to break her spell. Fruitless, February! This strength far outweighs the icicles on my awning, or the heavy snow you piled in my driveway. With every shovelful I am defying you. I feel a cozy company in the world I have drawn around me, with your dreary days as my unexpected ink. You are still not my favorite month, and I read far less books under your Sunday skies than I intended, but you are almost behind me. Good riddance! But thank you all the same, for growing me one more month.

to sustain my crazy

Rooted so fully in sustainability. Why shouldn't I want to keep this going? This pilgrimage to lands of my dreams with a slow deep breath and a welling in my heart of joy and expression. The swirl of colors from our dancing and the melodies that bleed into Sunday afternoons as I drink in the noise around me. Shifting in your seat at my side questions a comfort I have been sculpting so carefully, and I watch in fear at this house of cards breathed down, tumbling to my feet. True, I build these silly visions with a romantic eye and a longing for something more. Will I ever sigh so humbly at everything you've given me? or sulk soundly in my obstinacy. "Please please please let me get what I want". "If I can't have what I want, I don't want anything". "I want you".

We stand so close, and my mind traces itself around your face. I lose my grip on sustainability, and want to explode myself from devotion. I feel that everything I've been looking for could be found in your eyes and your hair; the bangs you've denounced with such fervor, as your opinions always stand like pillars in concrete. You are quick to dismiss my lunacy, but I do not wish to be rescued from this drowning. I would rather sink than swim in contentment, and let it kill me. Maybe I will come to second life in a even-keeled affection where we are never crazy, never foolish. Not now.

working on the weekend

Yesterday I bought tickets for Sarah and I to see Spoon at the Royal Oak Music Theatre on March 30th. I already took the day after off, and if there's any kind of lull in our schedule at RingSide, I am seriously considering taking that whole week off. So far, January has been my busiest month ever at RingSide (and it's not even over yet.) Just last week I worked 10 hours on Sunday, 12 on MLK Day, and 13 Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. We're working on Saturday right now, and I might be working again tomorrow. On the bright side, this is going to amount to some awesome overtime pay.

A couple weeks ago Alex moved into the upstairs of my house. He had the great idea of tearing up the carpet to see what the hardwood floors underneath look like. I was afraid after the pain in the ass it was to refinish the floors downstairs, but fortunately upstairs the wood was in amazing shape, with a newer, better padding that came right off. I really enjoy having someone else in my house. Sarah has been spending the night and staying there as well after I leave for work. Since I've barely been at home, it's good that it's being lived in.

I've been overwhelming myself with new music recently. Alex gave me six albums that he got from his friend, I've downloaded almost the entire Guided By Voices discography, plus tons of stuff from Built To Spill, Pavement, Quasi, and Echo & The Bunnymen (all recommendations from Sarah.)

All in all, things are awesome right now.

I have no problem with the PBR can on my porch

I have no problem with the PBR can on my porch. It is perched on a window ledge staring out at the morning on my street; the neighbor's cars and the week old snow. Sarah must have left it there when she went onto the porch to smoke last night. I am now imagining her standing there, clutching her shoulders to keep warm as she drags on her cigarette before blowing out the screen door. As I stand next to the coffee pot hissing the day awake, I am lost in the thought of her comfortable and cold at 2:00 AM. My mind settles into a happiness that tells me nothing can bring me down today.

Ray's list for 2009

10. Engineers - Three Fact Fader

Heavily effected guitars give Engineers a very electronic-driven feel. Entrenching, wall-of-sound melodies and soft-sung poetic, vocals make for an album that is ambient and powerful at the same time.

9. Wilco - Wilco (The Album)

Compare and contrast this to Wilco's older work all you want, it's still pretty good. Solid pop rock songs with a little less spastic guitar than on previous albums - but it's still there. Some straight-forward sentimental messages seem to be a deviation from previous work (excluding "I'm the man who loves you", of course.) Although, maybe I'm not as diehard about Wilco's older work. I'm certainly not against where the band is going.

8. A.C. Newman - Get Guilty

When I heard this album was coming out, I expected it would end up very high on my list. I was a huge fan of the quiet energy on his first album "The Slow Wonder". "Get Guilty", however, seems too... loud. Maybe it's a sign of being booked at bigger venues, but the style of this album is very anthemic, and at home on a large stage. And if that's the case, then all the more power to Mr. Newman for doing what he wants to well - I'd rather he turned down the shouts and crashing symbols.

7. Camera Obscura - My Maudlin Career

The ladies in Camera Obscura have always made glowing, enjoyable melodies. This album is solid from start to finish. I noticed more strings and horns than on previous works, and they only add to the warmth of their already cheery songs.

6. Junior Boys - Begone Dull Care

I have followed these guys ever since I saw them open for Caribou a couple years ago. Each of their albums seem to focus on different energies within the electronic music genre. On "Begone Dull Care" there is an 8-bit influence not present on their previous work that combines nicely with whispered vocals, but also draws out a new, more punctual singing style on some songs.

5. Au Revoir Simone - Still Night, Still Light

For as underwhelmed as I've been with Au Revoir Simone in the past, this album really surprised me. With drum machine rhythms and catchy keyboard chords, the wonderfully haunting vocals are able to soar. Another album that is consistent all the way through.

4. Asobi Seksu - Hush

For those who think shoegaze died with My Bloody Valentine, Asobi Seksu puts out an array of sounds on one exceptional album. From more straight-forward, muted indie rock to dreamy, radiant songs, the singer shines at all ranges, reaching to light and airy at times. This is the kind of album that you have to appreciate for all it's able to accomplish.

3. Reverie Sound Revue - Reverie Sound Revue

I waited for this album longer than I've ever waited for an album. After being blown away by their EP that I heard in 2006, I have been raving to my friends about the vocal talents of Lisa Lobsinger and RSR's amazingly catchy, simple rhythms. Now they have an LP under their belt, and what keeps this from being number one or two on my list is how they've slowed things down on a few songs. While it still nicely compliments Lisa's beautiful voice, I prefer when the band really rocks out (which they still do occasionally.)

2. Apostle Of Hustle - Eats Darkness

In my opinion, the champions of uniqueness in indie rock, Andrew Whiteman's Apostle of Hustle have turned out another gem of an album. Sure, when you take out the quirky interludes you're only left with seven real songs, but each one of them is fantastic. I am still enamored with the promotional write-up on AoH's MySpace. "swallowing poison usually leads to death, but not if the patient knows the art of transformation, not if they can "stomach" the bullshit & hell that is surrounding and tormenting them. this then is the process - one eats darkness & somehow is able to excrete out pure light!"

1. Halloween, Alaska - Champagne Downtown

One of the first albums I bought in a long time, for me this album was about realizing what I really loved in music. From the incredibly poetic (and even chilling) lyrics, to the moody, mellow parts, and even some experimentalism (self-censoring?). Not only that, but it cemented Halloween, Alaska as one of my all-time favorite bands.

January's stars

Happy Twenty-Ten everyone!

My holiday season was fantastic. I took my parent's to see a live production of A Christmas Carol at Meadowbrook Theatre. It was so great, I was touched emotionally... and it really put me in the Christmas spirit. Two nights before Christmas I was staying late on my last night of work for 2009 when James tweets @ me and it turns out he's in town for the holidays and hanging out in Ferndale with our friend Matt. I get home, pick up Sarah, and we all hang out at the Emory for a while. Afterward Sarah and I then went to Alana's house for Craft Night, and finally we stopped by Laura, JP, Aaron, and Rachel's new house down the street from me. Unfortunately we got there very late, and couldn't stay very long. Christmas Eve Sarah's Aunt and Uncle had an open house Christmas party at their house where Sarah and I exchanged gifts.

Christmas morning I woke up and watched Twin Peaks before my parents came over. I set up a playlist of indie bands covering Christmas songs, and once my Aunt and Uncle came over we played a game of Risk and later Sarah came over and we played some cards before having chicken noodle soup and sandwiches for dinner. That night I drove out to my parent's house where we had our gift exchange and so I could spend the night. The following morning we went to my other Aunt's house for my Mom's side of the family's Christmas. We had a delicious turkey lunch, my cousin and I exchanged gifts, and we had the traditional gift card exchange.

The next day, Sarah and I left on an unplanned roadtrip.

Our original rules were to take turns deciding whether to turn left or right at the next intersection. We also agreed that either of us could suggest a destination, and all turn-taking would cease until our destination was reached.

We started by driving through Detroit and taking pictures of funny signs (ie. "live human hair".) After a couple hours we decided to make it to Chicago. First we visited Sarah's friend Shannon and her girlfriend, and then checked into a hostel for the night. It was really cool to stay in a hostel... it had a very on-the-go, backpacker feel to it. After checking in we walked down the block to Galway Arms, a really cool Irish pub where we had dinner and then went across the street to a tiny little sports bar before crashing. The next morning we drove South through Indiana - getting lost on some dangerous country roads - and stayed the night in the picturesque town of Batesville.

Tuesday we drove through Cincinnati and continued South through Lexington before heading East. We drove the very scenic I-79, ran out of gas in the middle of the mountains, and stopped off in Burnsville before settling on a motel in Bridgeport. After checking in we went to the local mall and saw Sherlock Holmes. I really enjoyed it, and it made me want to read the books.

Wednesday we decided to make it to Baltimore, but first we visited the tiny suburb of... Ferndale! It was a lot different from the Ferndale we live in. We stopped at the Ferndale Tavern where there were half a dozen older guys drinking away. After our first drink, the owner bought everyone a round and the bartender gave us both drink tokens that say "Ferndale Tavern." I asked her kindly if we could pay for our next drinks and keep the tokens, and she let us keep them anyway. After that we drove into Baltimore itself and visited Edgar Allan Poe's original grave site. It was located in a cemetery around Westminster Hall, and though it was dark when we got there, the gate was open so we walked in. We went around to the back of the building where Poe's grave was, and when we came back to the entrance, the gate had been locked. Sarah called the Baltimore police and the officer who came was very apologetic about our being locked in. We then drove around and ended up on the South side of town, and randomly decided on Magerk's pub for dinner. We then stopped at Metropolitan for some coffee (it seemed like a really sweet place to go back to and have drinks) and got back on the road. I was feeling very energized so we ended up driving another three hours and made it almost to Pittsburgh.

Thursday morning we drove to Cleveland and stopped by Great Lakes Brewing Co. so I could add one of their growlers to my collection. We made it back home a little after dark, and we ended up celebrating New Year's at her Aunt and Uncle's.

I spent Sunday readjusting. I took down all of the Christmas decorations and cleaned up the upstairs room of my house because Alex is planning to move in with me sometime later this month. Now it's back to work as usual.