8.15.01 - 10:14

sometimes when things that are real feel too thick and rich and creamy you know it's time to take a step back. she liked to say things like, yeah, we saw this play for free and got what we paid for, but then he'd give her one of those looks and say (a little reproachfully), oh, come on, it was better than staring at the walls all night and she would give him one of her looks and say, speak for yourself, tiger. and then they would get in the car and he'd put that cd (was it east asheville hardware?) in and hit play and they'd sit in silence listening to the mango song, or maybe you know it better as when you love somebody and they dick you around, doesn't that really suck. and then they'd get home and pout and then maybe they would resume wasting their lives away. i mean, to each his own, right.

sometimes a little bitty thing is so big. i thought this itchy swollen toe was suffering from a mosquito bite and now it appears that it may have been an ant bite instead and i can't even figure out what's eating me. ha ha. oh, and angie. josh hartnett was 11 when dead poets society came out. there were a lot of people in that movie but he was most definitely not one of them. so you owe me a quarter. i think.

of course it's not cold. of course it's hot in here. how can you be cold? things are falling upside-down-ways. may i just add that i am a big gwyneth fan and while i agree that milla jovovich's album was a flop there are a few tracks worth listening to on it. she'll surprise you.

frente does a cover of i want you back and it's lovely and fun.

sometimes you just have to sit down and admit defeat and watch yourself go through the motions of doing whatever you're doing. and sometimes you have a moment of panic, maybe when doing simple addition, oh my god, how much is 11+12, oh shit, 23, but is it really? or in other moments, shit, how does i want you back go, who was charles on charles in charge, what exit do you take to get to montrose and west gray in an efficient manner, what does the d minor chord look like on the gee-tar, was flaming june wearing a red dress or an orange one, was the mona lisa really looking at me. and then it passes and you're just bits and pieces of yourself put back together again and it's like it never happened and no one will ever know differently.

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