Deconstructing an attempt

I got home at 10:15. Can you believe that? 10:15! I couldn't swallow the thought of going to sleep at so early an hour, so instead I dallied around the Internet, wasting just as much time as one ever does when caught in such a snare. But, here I am now, having since been freed.

I am in Phoenix. Blessed Phoenix. The first time I was back here since leaving was over Thanksgiving, and it wasn't the joyous return I'd hoped for. Too distracted, too unfocused (I know that those are redundant thoughts, but hey...), too...eh. I went back to Georgia, wondering if somehow the love I so proudly proclaim to all my Georgia friends for the loving embrace of Arizona had somehow evaporated. But two and a half weeks, and roughly 65 pages of term papers, later, I glided through the cool night sky of Phoenix and felt...wonderful. Funny how easily simple things, or complicated essays, can jade those things you hold most dear. Of course, it's not Phoenix, mind you, that's my dear. A symbol, a monument, a whisper of gifts past and present. That's an important distinction to make, you see.

Anyway, I'll now scour iPhoto for some pictures to entertain you with, since you've graciously endured the previous two paragraphs. By the way, you all ought to get a hold of iPhoto, as well as iMovie, iDVD, and iCyborg. The first three combine to make all sorts of multimedia endeavors possible, even for those of us whose hearts are willing but minds weak. The latter "program" is no program at all, and was thrown in there as a cheap attempt for even cheaper laughs. We're all insecure sometimes, aren't we?

Okay, okay, enough dallying -- here are the pics.

Sitting on the dock of the bay:


See, more friends...or did I just intrude uninvitedly on a wine soiree? You be the judge:


Bill Mallonee rocks. Paste Magazine thinks so (see #65). You should listen to him.