Finding Your Voice

I finally just gave up forever on Microsoft Word (RIP) and decided to open my Google Docs to finally get some writing done because I was dead in the brain for art over the weekend. I'm retarded like that though. What was I ever thinking to forget Google Docs? It must be the years of ancestral slavery altering synapse firing sequences. Or something like that.

So I open Google Docs and I find the following document:
"Trip List" edited on March 16, 2008 1:37 PM by tyhardaway
  1. Headphones
  2. Books
  3. Snacks
  4. Favorite night things
  5. Suitcase
  6. Pants
  7. Socks
  8. Shirts
  9. Underwear
  10. Shorts
  11. Shoes
  12. iPod
  13. Pajamas
  14. Bathroom stuff
  15. Sunglasses
  16. Jackets
  17. Games
  18. Art stuff
  19. Pictures
  20. Gifts
So I was all, like, WTF because I don't make lists to travel. I know how to travel. Travel is not a hard thing like nuclear physics. It's all in my brain how to travel by now. But, why did I make this list and I don't remember it? I know I'm losing my mind but to forget that I am a guy that makes lists is chronic Alzheimer's territory especially when I was so certain I wasn't a guy who makes lists for things (you've seen how I work...ever see lists?).

Then I realized that it must be the B's list. Makes sense now. She probably insisted we make a list and I was all, "No, hyper-intelligent and hyper-efficient people like us do not need lists or manuals or rules or warnings on coffee cups that you wouldn't want to spill hot-ass coffee on yourself because there is still something called logic in this world if mopes." Or something like that. Not to be confused by "Memory Devices" which she probably confused for "lists." She's still young. I forget this fact because she rocks so hard.

Anyway, the B's list: I love that "headphones" is item number one even when iPod is like 12. I love that "snacks," "art," and "favorite night things" appear on the list. "Books" checks in at position two. That's my gzzrl.

Also, aside from somebody's resume sent to me and a spreadsheet on a book project with Middlespace Cadet Sistine (yes, that's your new Middlespace Cadet Corps "handle") and "Directions to Susan's House" in my forgotten Google Docs, there's a document titled, "ATT01162." Text in its entirety:
From your friends reggie & greg
Sent from my iPhone
Seriously, I've forgotten all this stuff and you wonder why I "put so much" on the interwebs. Which is kind of what I told Middlespace Cadet Betsy Lou (yes, that's your new MCC "handle") this morning. I am telling her about how its okay to do your art despite everything else and I sent her a link to a random poem I posted like two years ago. And she was all, WTF, son what is your problem?--you need Lexapro, Holmes. Stop stalkin'. That's what she said.

Mine from past to Betsy Lou: [clicky]