<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437029886721240641</id><updated>2011-07-07T16:01:21.460-07:00</updated><category term='fall'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='scooters'/><title type='text'>i can relax</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>horton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09573219665639088624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437029886721240641.post-6383703585072728935</id><published>2009-11-15T13:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T13:36:04.351-08:00</updated><title type='text'>how to disappear completely</title><content type='html'>i need to go for a ride out to somewhere rural and take a nap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437029886721240641-6383703585072728935?l=chefmorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/feeds/6383703585072728935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5437029886721240641&amp;postID=6383703585072728935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/6383703585072728935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/6383703585072728935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/2009/11/how-to-disappear-completely.html' title='how to disappear completely'/><author><name>horton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09573219665639088624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437029886721240641.post-5736487888010564193</id><published>2009-08-09T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T13:37:27.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One year anniversary</title><content type='html'>I've been in Texas for one year.  I'm writing this on an iPod touch.  This year has been chock full o changes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437029886721240641-5736487888010564193?l=chefmorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/feeds/5736487888010564193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5437029886721240641&amp;postID=5736487888010564193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/5736487888010564193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/5736487888010564193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/2009/08/one-year-anniversary.html' title='One year anniversary'/><author><name>horton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09573219665639088624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437029886721240641.post-8930747979652452955</id><published>2009-06-07T16:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T16:38:13.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bi-polar, ya'll</title><content type='html'>i have gone through moments of complete joy to moments of feeling unattached and depressed in the past 48 hours.  Should I blame the caffeine?  I wish that this past weekend was my life and the week days didn't exist.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend told me he hadn't had a nightmare in 8 months or more.  I can't believe that.  I'm pretty sure I have 2 or 3 nightmares, or at least stress dreams, per week.  Sometimes, I feel like it's every night.  Is this a problem and/or unusual?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a temporary roommate and it's great.  Really great to talk to verbally talk to someone about everything.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to take anything seriously, but I can't not take everything seriously. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to my vacation next week like no other.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;too much whine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437029886721240641-8930747979652452955?l=chefmorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/feeds/8930747979652452955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5437029886721240641&amp;postID=8930747979652452955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/8930747979652452955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/8930747979652452955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/2009/06/bi-polar-yall.html' title='bi-polar, ya&apos;ll'/><author><name>horton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09573219665639088624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437029886721240641.post-7330465635546402827</id><published>2009-05-15T23:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T23:32:04.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'>when i was young, i was a boy</title><content type='html'>may 15th, 2009:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;late sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;cereal eating.&lt;br /&gt;late to work(ing).&lt;br /&gt;staff meeting.&lt;br /&gt;dvd/vhs fixing.&lt;br /&gt;conference calling.&lt;br /&gt;hard laughing.&lt;br /&gt;pasta eating.&lt;br /&gt;people talking.&lt;br /&gt;employment counseling.&lt;br /&gt;check looking.&lt;br /&gt;check signing.&lt;br /&gt;job applying.&lt;br /&gt;coffee drinking.&lt;br /&gt;cell phone calling.&lt;br /&gt;office locking.&lt;br /&gt;car driving.&lt;br /&gt;clothes changing.&lt;br /&gt;cd burning.&lt;br /&gt;phone calling.&lt;br /&gt;chuck e. cheesing.&lt;br /&gt;client seeing.&lt;br /&gt;mario karting.&lt;br /&gt;house driving.&lt;br /&gt;chip eating.&lt;br /&gt;beer drinking.&lt;br /&gt;good talking.&lt;br /&gt;hard laughing.&lt;br /&gt;fire breathing.&lt;br /&gt;s'more eating.&lt;br /&gt;mind thinking.&lt;br /&gt;friend drunking.&lt;br /&gt;disco driving.&lt;br /&gt;home seeking.&lt;br /&gt;late night blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;late to bed, early to rise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437029886721240641-7330465635546402827?l=chefmorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/feeds/7330465635546402827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5437029886721240641&amp;postID=7330465635546402827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/7330465635546402827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/7330465635546402827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/2009/05/when-i-was-young-i-was-boy.html' title='when i was young, i was a boy'/><author><name>horton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09573219665639088624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437029886721240641.post-6750798735433836256</id><published>2009-05-03T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T21:31:59.930-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scooters'/><title type='text'>quickly, before i go to bed</title><content type='html'>how did i get to where i am?  where will i be in one year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;every morning, i wish i had gone to bed sooner.  i often think about the idea of paying someone so i can sleep in.  most mornings, when i have to wake up to an alarm, i wish i could pay someone off to get up at the time and what i have to do until i naturally wake up and after i take a leisurely shower.  though i usually don't get up until i've hit snooze for a good 1 hour.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dear morning seth,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm sorry i stayed up so late.  please forgive me.  i promise i'll go to bed earlier tomorrow night.  or hey, maybe i'll even take a nap after work.  will that make you feel better?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;always,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;night seth&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437029886721240641-6750798735433836256?l=chefmorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/feeds/6750798735433836256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5437029886721240641&amp;postID=6750798735433836256' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/6750798735433836256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/6750798735433836256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/2009/05/quickly-before-i-go-to-bed.html' title='quickly, before i go to bed'/><author><name>horton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09573219665639088624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437029886721240641.post-6149157513306547470</id><published>2009-04-17T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T23:45:12.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>5 months?</title><content type='html'>i feel as though i'm losing brain space.  i walked back to my apartment from the grocery store with a friend last night and he brought up that he believes the human mind is finite.  the more time passes, the more i agree.  i also believe i have come to the realization that i won't be as academically smart as i would like to be--that it just might not be possible.  in a related story, i've become increasingly apathetic toward almost everything.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it will pass as it always does.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i would have lied on my bed drifting in and out of sleep if it had not been for that same friend texting me to see if i wanted to go watch a movie.  i'm glad i did.  i'm glad i force myself into social situations more nowadays.  people are just people, right?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't take everything so seriously.  live and live well.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dear blogosphere, it's great to be back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437029886721240641-6149157513306547470?l=chefmorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/feeds/6149157513306547470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5437029886721240641&amp;postID=6149157513306547470' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/6149157513306547470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/6149157513306547470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/2009/04/5-months.html' title='5 months?'/><author><name>horton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09573219665639088624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437029886721240641.post-8917510507623426804</id><published>2008-11-23T14:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T14:31:20.657-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Sleep Til Austin</title><content type='html'>I had an interview with Refugee Services of Texas on Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;Offered the job on Friday.&lt;br /&gt;Spending the week eating food and talking to people that are my family.  &lt;br /&gt;Moving to Austin sometime this week.&lt;br /&gt;Starting work on December 1st.  &lt;br /&gt;Exhale.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437029886721240641-8917510507623426804?l=chefmorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/feeds/8917510507623426804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5437029886721240641&amp;postID=8917510507623426804' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/8917510507623426804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/8917510507623426804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/2008/11/no-sleep-til-austin.html' title='No Sleep Til Austin'/><author><name>horton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09573219665639088624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437029886721240641.post-5301366333240752303</id><published>2008-11-14T18:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T19:02:34.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>love comes to me</title><content type='html'>i'm sitting in my brother's house with his dog at my feet.  my brother is in the hospital with his wife awaiting the arrival of their first child.  it feels like early october in north carolina.  such an epic day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've noticed that my brother's dog will bark incessently until i pet him.  and i, in my twenty-something-everything-around-me-is-a-metaphor mentality, can't help but see myself in his behavior.  all animals seem to need affection in some form.  that's become painfully clear to me in the past week.  solitary activity such as my bike rides through the city, recording music, and reading have provided me with some fulfillment; but the few times this week where i've been able to share a (seemingly) mundane moment with someone else has provided me with far more satisfaction.  the quote from (the film version of) 'into the wild', "HAPPINESS ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED," has been echoing around me the past month.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the past 2 or 3 years i have found myself falling into deep bouts of cynicism.  it's so easy.  i have to remind myself that it's lazy thinking.  but then i internally make fun of myself for thinking that.  it's a weird cycle.  but cynicism is hip right?  and so is being painfully self-aware and sarcastic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a feeling if i was telling a certain person i know about this, they would attribute it all to my astrological sign--cancer.  i'm not buying it.  but maybe that's 'very cancer' of me to react that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;either way, a new human being is starting their journey today and that is incredible.  i'm going to the hospital tonight to greet him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lastly, if you have time, listen to this bonnie "prince" billy song.  it's been a big part of my soundtrack the last 3 days and earned it's way into becoming the title of this entry.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/fQXksaXZ5A/aus=false/"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/fQXksaXZ5A/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/brunobeu/music/USFTTylE/bonnie_prince_billy_love_comes_to_me/"&gt;love comes to me - bonnie prince billy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437029886721240641-5301366333240752303?l=chefmorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/feeds/5301366333240752303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5437029886721240641&amp;postID=5301366333240752303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/5301366333240752303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/5301366333240752303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/2008/11/love-comes-to-me.html' title='love comes to me'/><author><name>horton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09573219665639088624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437029886721240641.post-7696226284040870579</id><published>2008-11-10T11:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T11:44:25.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>picture this with me</title><content type='html'>our character wakes up on his air mattress to another friday morning and stares at the ceiling for several minutes.  he eventually rolls off into the carpet and begins his morning routine.  this involves eating organic honey nut o's and listening to national public radio.  upon switching on the receiver, he listens as steve inskeep gives listeners the new statistics for the unemployment rate in the united states--the highest in years.  "man, i'm glad to have a job right now," he thinks to himself under the closed mouth crunch of his cereal.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;our character arrives at work and realizes that, again, he does not have much to do today.  so, he decides to make a pot of coffee for the office, but mostly for himself to get that "inspired feeling" that comes along with a strong cup of folgers.  as he reenters the office, he notices the secretary is in the directors office with the door closed.  thinking this is odd, but not unlike the director, he carries about his business and turns on the computer.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the office door slams and within minutes the director approaches his office, "seth, can you come into my office?"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"yeah, sure," he says enthusiastically.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"we  have something uncomfortable to talk about..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he wonders what this could be.  though the pause from this introductory sentence to the explanation is a matter of seconds, he has already imagined possible reasons for this initial sentence and decides on sexual harassment--though that is a completely unmerited reason.  the director proceeds to explain his office is being discontinued, "effective immediately."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;initially shocked, he responds the only way he knows how during uncomfortable situations by cracking a few jokes mostly regarding the fresh pot of coffee he made in the other room.  the scene ends with a few short shots of our character calling family members and job searching on the internet, via the local university's computer lab.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the weekend provided the following experiences:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;happy houring, bike fixing, bike riding, pizza eating, pint drinking, dallas traveling, calexico watching, friend talking, hard sleeping, church going, branch davidian exploring, bocce playing, book reading, date going, marijuana offering, dj watching, gram parsons listening, hard sleeping.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;austin, i sent you a few e-mails with my resume.  let me know what you think.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437029886721240641-7696226284040870579?l=chefmorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/feeds/7696226284040870579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5437029886721240641&amp;postID=7696226284040870579' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/7696226284040870579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/7696226284040870579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/2008/11/picture-this-with-me.html' title='picture this with me'/><author><name>horton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09573219665639088624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437029886721240641.post-8453372250145458278</id><published>2008-10-26T15:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T16:25:01.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what have you been up to, man?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mishami.image.pbase.com/v3/93/536093/1/48433614.AustinBatsPB.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 800px; height: 532px;" src="http://mishami.image.pbase.com/v3/93/536093/1/48433614.AustinBatsPB.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i moved into my own place.  it looks like i'm squatting there, judging by the minimal things i have (my bedroom=air mattress, sleeping bag, milk crate, clock).  though, i really like it.  it's relaxing to have very few things.  i took a 3 hour nap today and didn't feel bad about it.  previously, in north carolina, i feel like i would have thought i just wasted valuable free time on my weekend when i could have been doing something more productive or social.  but since i don't have a lot going on here constantly, or live in a house with other people, i don't feel any guilt about it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i've been going to a bar on sunday nights to watch some dudes dj.  it's about 85% cheesy and 15% entertaining.  i order a drink and sit in a booth usually for an hour and watch people and listen to the transitions.  i like having these weekly traditions.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;greensboro folk came to visit austin this weekend.  i had a really great time.  a common thought i've had since being in texas is if i was given a photograph of today 6 years ago or even 1 year ago, how would i feel about it?  if i had been given a photograph of anna, georgia, katie and i in austin on october 25th, 2007 i don't know what i would have thought.  i remember writing a "journal" type entry into a green notebook at the seattle airport this time last year asking myself what i would be doing this time next year.  i listed off various cities i would be in or experiences i would have had and sprinkled about 30 question marks all throughout.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a few of my close friends are on the fast track to marriage.  people continue to move to new cities and start new chapters in their lives.  this is really helping me to focus on the present and realize that this moment is very temporary and to fully embrace it because soon everything will change.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we watched the bats fly out of the congress avenue bridge in austin last night while eating taco truck burritos.  i feel like i embraced the moment to the fullest.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;current things i'm really into:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-dental hygiene&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-listening records in my living room&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-the song "acid tongue" by jenny lewis&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-cooking&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-reading as much as possible&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-austin museum of art/thinking about art&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437029886721240641-8453372250145458278?l=chefmorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/feeds/8453372250145458278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5437029886721240641&amp;postID=8453372250145458278' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/8453372250145458278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/8453372250145458278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-have-you-been-up-to-man.html' title='what have you been up to, man?'/><author><name>horton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09573219665639088624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437029886721240641.post-8619090138105943019</id><published>2008-10-21T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T19:27:37.659-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i have space</title><content type='html'>today i was sitting in a room without windows.  i considered starting a (semi-personal) blog (again).  it's 9:32 pm central time and i now have a blog. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;today i laughed so hard that i cried.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what do you think, people?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437029886721240641-8619090138105943019?l=chefmorton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/feeds/8619090138105943019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5437029886721240641&amp;postID=8619090138105943019' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/8619090138105943019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437029886721240641/posts/default/8619090138105943019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chefmorton.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-have-space.html' title='i have space'/><author><name>horton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09573219665639088624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
