October 21, 2003 - 10:46 pm
The word "observations" sounds wrong when I say it out loud. I kind of want it to be "obversations". You know. Like "conversations". But not really at all.
The song Red Light by Jonny Lang is my new favorite shower song. I like it because I get to sing with my scratchy voice. The scratchy voice is usually reserved for special songs like Jewel's New Wild West and Howie Day's blended covers of All Along the Watchtower and Halloween. Jonny should feel right special.
Speaking of Halloween, I'd rather chew my fingers off one at a time than spend that wretched holiday in this wretched town. Before I made the move out of Florida everyone said, "Oh, you're going back to Salem just in time!" Oh yeah. Just in time for all the hooligans running around wearing pointy black witch hats. Just in time for all the traffic created by all the crappy tourists being shuttled in from East Bumfuck. Just in time for the extended wait at every single restaurant or bar within a 672-mile radius. Just in time!
I have lots of friends but no desire to see anyone. I've been seeing Burp a lot lately but only because she calls me. I'm a horrible friend in that I don't call anyone. I just assume that if they want to see me they'll call me. Otherwise they've got other things to do. And, generally, I'm just fine with that. So there.
There's something strangely enjoyable about eating greasy pizza and drinking martinis.
I'm so horny I'd make out with a toaster oven right about now. It doesn�t have to be on. It could be a cold toaster oven. It could even be broken. I wouldn't mind.
I finally have money and I'm afraid to spend it. I bought a book tonight but I think I'll return it. I always tell myself that I should save my money for something bigger and better. Something that I really need or have always wanted. Not so surprisingly, I usually take my piggy bank stash and squander it on additions to my wardrobe, therefore not using it for something less frivolous.
Tomorrow, Wednesday, the 21st of October is hereby proclaimed Meet Kevin Day. Everyone go out and meet a Kevin. Pick a Kevin, any Kevin. But not the Kevin I'm meeting. Because, chances are, you're cooler than me and he'll ditch me for you. And then I'll have to shop at H&M all by myself. And have a pity party. In the corner. By women's accessories.
Ta da
