A great day...

That cusp of summer is a great thing. Warm but not too warm so that when it rains it is so pleasant that you just want to sit outside and be rained on. I would do this more often but unfortunately most of my books are not water retardant.
I am falling in love with books again. A while without HAVING to read coupled with a job that allows me sometime to read can sure turn your mood around about reading. I wish I was a better reader though. Not that I don't read a lot but I mean I wish I was better at the task itself, at the quality. Not that I don't read quality stuff (and yes I include most of my comic book readingin the "quality stuff" category) but I mean I was better at reading. T.S. Eliot and Derrida were good readers in the sense that I am meaning here. The ability to think beyond what you are reading. I suppose practive makes perfect though...
Now I will go read!

And it pours...

So by my own account I have written more philosophy for myself then I think i did as a graduate student thus far. I admit it is far easier to do it in the comfort of your own home, beer and smoke at hand, without worrying about what some professor will say about your thesis or atrocious grammar. This is good. It also gives you a chance to spin freely in that viscous mess of your own thoughts. Philosophy of mind: lets talk about it. Political philosophy? In the words of the Fonz, "Sit on it!"
I have a love hate relationship with azaleas. For my norther brethren I am not sure if you know what these are. They are a flowering bush and they are southern as magnolias, bbq, and de facto racism and open homophobia. They are beautiful. They are a sure fire sign of spring (along with the birds) and they let you know that rain and sunshine in equal meausre are in the future but in a good way. They flower in shades that range from bright pink to fucia. They have a subtle smell that fills the air. My back yard is full of them (and two dog woods) and I like to sit there when no one else is around and read or sit there with others and try to play dominoes (my new love. fuck video games or metaphysics!). But the problem is that they die. And yes, everything dies but these do it slowly and painfully. They almost rust and turn brown and then your yard is full of brown dead flowers, each a monument to a failed dream or possibility. But I poetically digress and badly at that.
My job goes on. This is how things go over a beer:
Me: "How you doing? "
Them: "Dude. Bitching day. Lots of paper work to do. Boss sucks."
Me: "That sucks."
Them: "How was your day?"
Me: "A mentally retarded kid ripped my shirt of while trying to beat the shit out of me. And I got spit on.:
Them: "Oh."
Me: "Yeah, all and all not a bad day."
It takes a certain kind of hate/love to with stand that. Luckily I am going back to school in the fall.
Ok, that is as much of a facile update as I feel inclined to share in my current state.