Hello, Lovine.com

I took pictures as my sister went through a ceasarian section. I was afraid that all the gore would cause me to faint, and caught myself thinking twice after Fil and I had already donned the scrubs, booties, and face masks before entering the surgery room. What the hell was I getting into? The most surreal part about it, to be honest, was the scent of burning skin (from a cauterizing knife as Fil told me), and the intensity of the moving imagery. Team of doctors, my sister wide awake on the table, holding her husband's hand, silver tools gleaning under the lights, the palpable excitement and tension as baby Laila was slowly pulled out... the garbled voices, the soft cry of a naked soul coming out of her slumber...

Welcome to the world, Laila Olivia :)

Act small, dream big. All the other castles in the sky that aren't your own, are also made of the sand between your toes.

In every day, lies a reason to look for happiness. To make sense of chaos, to accept the world without surrender, to believe without compromise, to let your mind wander...

They said that all good things must come to an end. Not so sure about that one. The real good things in life never end, because you never stop finding them. It's a dusty and uphill battle, but that's what makes it all the more worthwhile.

Following a pretty bad Coachella hangover, I just realized there's a load of gigs around my area that need some attention.

The Whip apparently played a show on Monday and earlier today, I totally missed out. The initially free Depeche Mode street concert on Hollywood-Highland for Jimmy Kimmel on Thursday turned into an invitation only gig and of course I didn't get tix in time.

Lykke Li is playing at Masonic Lodge in Hollywood Forever Cemetery end of May, tickets are onsale this Friday. Phoenix playing at The Wiltern end of June.

Here's Travis when we caught them last week at the Wiltern, summing up how I feel:

If you would like to receive random postcards, please leave a comment with your email address, and the postman will send you random tidbits through the mail. :)

I find that my wheels turn faster in the dead of night. I had the (mis) fortune of realizing this back in my sophomore year of high school, where I learned to appreciate the gifts of productivity that total silence offered. The kind of quiet that the sandman offered was some sort of gateway drug. It was something that you can't bargain for during the day, where distractions were endemic even if you tried your best to avoid them. For me, at least. Instead of fighting a losing battle, I took it in stride to have the sleeping world work for me, and not against me.

And so I found myself grinding away the late hours where I could isolate myself from the rest of the world's clatter. When I wake up in the morning to forcefully assimilate myself in society's morning driven 8-hour rat race ethic, I am rewarded with poofy eyebags, a dazed disposition, and a perennially effed up body clock.

Time is never really linear. At the end of the day, aren't our perceptions of it a tad bit more important than the truth it supposedly belongs to?

My self-portraits today:

Vivid dream last night.

Best friend was starting a new business, with the help of his father-in-law, based on the distribution of medicines and pharmaceuticals. They were going to market 'gourmet' cough syrup, in the various flavors of black truffle, garlic butter, and crab fat.

If you're sick and need to get some meds, might as well go down in style. And then I woke up with extremely itchy eyes and a runny nose. Hmmm.

EDIT: And I just remembered part of the dream that someone stole my identity and racked up serious debt under my name. Ruined my FICO score of 757 down to 400. Should I play the lottery against those numbers?

Goodbye, Los Angeles.

I've decided that the increase in sales tax, the uncertain economic gloom, the declining real estate market and 101 405 intersection traffic are too much to bear. Business is bad.

And so my bags are being packed, along with the dog, to seek greener pastures in the Micronesia archipelago where the grass is green, the skies blue, and the clouds cry an occasional thunderstorm. Kat has also decided to pack up in a few months, and join me as we seek to get out of the California glow and turn Chamorro in Guam.

Feel free to send us postcards, and we're sure to do the same. :)