Life

How come everything happens at once. Isn't that the point of time? It seems like this week there's a bunch of shows and parties and things to do. I don't want to hear any of that, "relax your social calendar and concentrate on what's important" crap. The social schedule is what is important. That's the fun. It's what makes it worth doing the other stuff. I spent last week feeling lucky to get 5 hours of sleep a day and this week it looks the same. I always think, "I'll catch up on sleep this weekend." it's a dumb way to live and I don't know how I got to the point where I have to plan when I'm going to sleep.

Living like this is how coffee became my favorite meal of the day. I should ask my boss if I can get paid in stumptown gift cards.

BTW, I really hate the cashiers office. How is it that people who spend all day handling money have no idea how hard it is to come up with a thousand bucks. They're bastards one and all.

Did you notice how this post didn't have a point? Did you notice how my roommate's comments implied he knew a lot about my semi "unprofessional" past. This is what you get for knowing someone for ten years. I guess when he goes to get his PHD I'll have to accuse him of blowing up hotdogs in the autoclave.

Is anyone else totally hung up on Rachel Steven's "I Said Never Again" this week? Has anyone else been busted dancing to Josie Cotton this week? How about last week? More than once this week? I can't be the only one... This is what comes of never closing your blinds.

Does anyone have an idea what I should be for Halloween?

The young woman I've taken a fancy to has a tattoo, which is number three on my list of requirements. They shake out something like this, 1. Brown Eyes 2. Listens to music that I can tolerate or even like (she likes pretty good music) 3. Has a tattoo 4. Lefty Politics and doesn't mind arguing with me 5. Likes to walk around 6. Likes to eat lots of different things 7. (This is only under consideration at this time) Really digs Rachel Stevens and dances to Josie Cotton, maybe digs They Might Be Giants 8. Will put up with my shit. Number 8 is really the tricky one.