okay.

2 weeks left of the spring semester and i’m settled in. at least 80% of all graded materials have been completed. i’m attending class in an unending thunderstorm, the last *real* friday this semester.

i’m going through the motions of the day. lecture. lots of (wet) walking. library. read. lunch. lecture.

I’m at the door of my final class. it’s a medium sized lecture room for LSU, seating about 180 students. Although that seems like a lot, the room is designed in a sloping movie-theater style fashion to allow maximum attendance in a minimum of space. I’m the one of the first students to class. As I walk in, everything seems just the way it should be: the florescent lights are dim giving the already soiled carpets a deep slate hue, the air conditioner is humming away in it’s eternal battle against the southern humidity, the orange chairs look nearly brown in the classroom gloom, and in the far right corner the bright computer LED screen casts an eerie glow upon the lecture room floor. I see one shade of a student sleeping in the back row.

Summoning up my willpower and desire to learn, I head for my usual seat, number 106, three rows from the front and approximately 3 seats right of center with respect to the rest of the room. Even in the semi-darkness, it’s easy to find because of the grafitti inscribed on the seat in front of it. The message reads in a crooked rapidly written fashion: “Mahoney G. sucks”. I have often wondered during a boring lecture, who exactly this Mahoney G. charachter is and why he/she caused so much hatred in another person to merit having their name inscribed in such a derogatory manner on the back of a chair.

However, today none of this crosses my mind as I reach to pull the seat of my chair down to sit and wait for class to start. Just as my hand reaches the seat to move it to the “down” position, I notice something distinclty different about my chair today. Today, sitting on my chair, is a pair of girl’s underwear.

Now dear reader, you might think that this is something altogether very strange. However, on campus it’s not unusual to see a few choice undergarments lying around, especially after greek initiations or a big football victory. Usually, these articles are picked up by maitenance before the majority of the student body arrives for the day. Since I have class so early though, I have frequently been unfortunate enough to run across these forgotten items before anyone else.

Today, though, this is not the case. It is now 2:30 PM, and many classes have already used this lecture hall. I think, “Gee what a sick joke,” and procede to remove said undergarment from my chair. As I do so, I notice three things simultaneously:
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im done im done im done im done im done
summerrrrrrrr

excited ness
thankful ness
happy ness

yay*yay*yay
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my mother tells me that before i actually went to school, when i was in preschool and kindergarten, i had said that i wish my teacher would “say things that i had to write down,” i wanted to have to take notes and study them, because i thought that i would be really learning when i did that. Before i ever expressed interest in being a Fireman or a Construction Worker or an Astronaut, i really just wanted to be a Nerd.

i’m about to start studying major big time for my 2 finals. first, i shall go eat, then i shall open some books. i probably should have started studying for this physics final (that i’m taking tomorrow) in kindergarten, when i was so eager to study, instead of 24 hours before.

boy oh boy.

that’s right. next weekend i’ll be home.

yesterday me and roomie joey jammed and recorded it. i didn’t quite realize it but that will probably be one of the last times we’ll jam for at least year or so, if ever. Joey is going to join a branch of the military for a stint, and he might come back to school after that.

after we jammed, i wrote a song. This is important, because it’s the first entire song i ever wrote with lyrics. Before i always just had some lyrics and then tried to play something to it. But sho’ nuff, i’m following my daddy’s footsteps, and crankin out a simple little tune. And sho’ nuff, it’s about a Girl i know.

I’ve always admired my dad’s ability to take an idea and, with maximum creative energies, turn it into something. It’s like his creativity is so alive that it spawned hundreds and hundreds of little bursts and extended efforts, incarnate in poems, short stories, plays, screenplays, editorials, writs, jokes, and my personal favorite are his songs. If you’ve never heard a John Comeaux original, just imagine a fun little diddy about Happiness or Love or Sky Blue or Oleo Margarine or anything like that, all expressing perfect truth with 3 chords.

My song was supposed to be created in a similar fashion, but i have to admit that i had trouble keeping it simple. Plus, i’m a little bit more perfectionist, and i wish i had a voice that could sing the lyrics like i want them. Oh well.

The song isn’t quite ready to be broadcasted over the internet, of course, and i don’t know if it will ever be so.
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i don’t usually eat candy. it’s not something anyone would notice unless they pay attention.

so when i went to Travis’s for Easter, unexpectedly, i got a baseball-cap full of chocolate, jelly beans, laffy taffy, reese’s, etcetera items made entirely of sugar. I expressed my appreciation for the kindness of the family from which i recieved it, and brought it all back, untouched, in a walmart bag.

Certain peers of mine have accumulated a collection of candy from Easter as well, and often gobble down the sweets at an alarming rate. I thought to myself, surely these young men and women are desperate for nutrition, and these tasty treats are the only resource immediately at hand. Therefore they fall into a sort of “candy trap” which may then instigate the “candy-weight-gain” and then later the “candy-self-loathing”.

On such occasions, i consider myself lucky that i am otherwise surrounded by nonfat yogurt, whole grain cereal, granola bars, oatmeal, and jello, and have a lightning-quick metabolism.

This very inconspicuous walmart bag was sitting nonchalantly in my food stash near my desk chair this evening, as it has been for about a week. Suddenly, while i sat down in said chair, a bright pink thing fell out of said walmart bag. Twas nothing but a shiny wrapped disk of chocolate. I was about to put it back, when i thought of the innocent tasty chocolate on the inside (in my younger years i was a chronic chocoholic). So i ate it.

Something inside me awoke. You might think, of course, it was just your belly that awoke. But i now think it was something deeper. I wondered what other undiscovered and tasty num-nums lie within the unopened bag.

Chocolate eggs, Chocolate bars, Caramel chocolate, Chocolate cookies, Crispy-rice chocolate, Peanut-Butter filled chocolate, Cherry-filled Chocolate, Chocolate-filled chocolate, chocolate malt balls, and creamy chocolate covered sugar wafers filled with peanut butter and chocolate, and then there’s the Laffy Taffy, the jelly beans, the bottle caps, the lollipops, the life savers, the fruit-flavored candies, the gummi-bears (Oh the gummi bears)…

Ughhhhh…

20 minutes later, when my mouth is covered in sugary syrup, there are green-haired, orange-skinned oompa-loompas dancing and singing a 3 part harmony in my head:

“What do you get
When you guzzle down sweets,
Eating as much
As an elephant eats?
Why are you getting
Terribly fat?
What do you think
will become of that?
I don’t like the look of it…”
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begin countdown

A polar bear walks into a bar and has a seat. The bartender asks the bear, “What’ll you have?”

The bear replies, “I’ll have…………………… a ginger ale.”

The bartender asks the bear, “Gee, what’s with the big pause?”

Holding up his hands, the bear frowns and says, “I don’t know, my Dad had them, too.”

on thursday afternoon, i was sitting in my dorm room, relatively content and lazy, pondering what adventures i could have here at Mercer University while everyone and their dog made a trip back home for easter break.

a knock at the door, and 20 minutes later i was riding in a buick on a Georgia Highway with my buddy Travis headed to his home in Augusta. On a whim, he asked if i wanted to come, and i packed a bag.

Therin lies my “absence”.

For those of you who take no interest in the Gentleman’s Sport, This easter weekend was also the Master’s Tournament weekend, one of the most prestigious golf tournaments. Augusta, Georgia, where i stayed, happens to be the location of the Master’s Tournament every year. So the day-to-day status on the Master’s was top news for me this weekend. Augusta has gorgeous country and the weather was perfect.

Travis’ family is very hospitable and witty. i had a fun time.
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Whew..umm..last post was….a long time ago…here is the interview stylie synopsis:

Readers of Davidcomeaux.com (RDCC): So how’s life been?

Jon: Well great, can’t complain at all. Last two weeks before spring break were rough with a whole lot of stinky school work but Spring Break has been quite wonderful.

RDCC: Whacha been up too during your week off?

Jon: not much really. Drove home last sunday and have been hanging out ever since. Done alot of reading, painting, lots of music, quite time for introspection, sorting out life…you know that kinda stuff.

RDCC: Man, that sounds really boring. What happened to Panama City?

Jon: Panama City…hmmm…I don’t own any maps sorry bout that one.
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sigh.

everybody’s gotta do it. i just wish it wasn’t so painful sometimes.

i like to do voices. i like to make funny sounds and strange accents. it’s one of the things that i just like to do. sometimes it annoys people. most of the time, it’s just amusing. like most people, i put inflections in my voice according to the content of what i’m trying to communicate.

but i can never seem to say something with total and honest un-emotion. i simply can’t say it. and when i try, it sounds like i’m being dry and bland on purpose (which i am, but that’s my point).

some people i know have the opposite problem. EVERYTHING that they say is so… witless and flat, that they have trouble holding my attention.

so, unconsciously, i affect the way people understand me just by the tones i put in my voice; i’d like to think that perhaps i can use this to my advantage. on occasion, however, this has disasterous results, especially with sensitive situations.

maybe i should practice saying witless and flat things more often. probably in private, when no one can hear me. i could say things like “The weather is nice.” or “That is a red truck.” maybe even, “Hello.”

i have trouble with hello’s. they’re always emphatic. in any direction. for some reason. i can never make it sound like the straight-ahead, no-nonsense greeting that it’s meant to be.

do i have a problem with over-expression?
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i started writing an entry about 5 times today, never able to finish or make something coherent and interesting at the same time.

my blog is so used to giving front-line news on what’s up and happening in my good life.

but, as i’ve noticed before, blog is pretty useless when life is bringing you down, because all you’re doing is whining or complaining or being negative because that’s how things are going. if anything, it becomes just another way to procrastinate. despite my recognition of this, i am posting this entry. how about that.
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