For Good Ole' Archie Leach

I saw Grease the other night and ever since that damn "Sandra D." song has been stuck in my head. Worse part is I can't remember the words.

Let me tell you how old we are now, the guys went out for St. Paddy's day on Thursday and it took them a whole four days to recover.

I have to be at work in 1 hour and 23 minutes, but I can't manage to fall asleep.

I drifted off around 1 A.M. and had a dream, when I woke up it was all I could think about. I couldn't have slept for more than 10 minutes.

The bit of me that still remembers what it's like to be me is telling the bit of me that's changed in the last year that it's only got so long left before the old me takes back over and plunges us into something neither one of us wants. Something grand.

I keep thinking about the way this blog makes me seem. I keep thinking how it's the most perfect picture of me anyone can ever see, except that it's not. It's missing the key. It's a damn crossword puzzle without the clues. See if you don't know me this makes me look really, really off. Makes me look like a sad, bitter, little man. But knowing me this just adds another dimension...a sad, bitter, little dimension but a dimension nonetheless. It doesn't make me any less me...if anything it makes it obvious that there is a little more to me than anyone would expect.

My name's become a bit of a joke lately, which in many ways only makes it suit me more. Luckily for both of us it's not a very funny joke, otherwise it wouldn't suit me at all.

I am very, very tired...but now I have to be at work in 1 hour and 7 minutes.

What are you going to do?

So here's to acting the part, playing out the string, and no matter what they call you never letting go of your name.

It's one of the few things that will ever really be yours.

"I knew a Baldwin once, horse thief in Mississippi. Couldn't be the same guy could it?" - Walter, His Girl Friday