on one hand, i am staying up too late eating candy, and on the other hand, i am processing my past and future. i've been temping all week, stuffing envelopes and gossiping with the other temps. tonight, walking home, someone was playing sentimental spanish music really loudly and I thought about abandoned buildings and things that ended a long time ago and how i eat too much sugar. it was a pretty obvious sort of logic-- self involvement tinged with nostalgia and a touch of corny bullshit. still, it feels nice to walk home after an evening of sitting on the floor smoking cigarettes, eating and making plans. sometimes i feel like my whole entire life is a mess of plans that I use to comfort myself and shape my identity, but that never reach fruition. it's time to follow through, to realize these ideas and step out from the shadow of what could have been. it's a really good thing that i don't have a job, because i don't have enough time for anything. i wish that Pascale Boucicaut, Cole Callahan, Max Roseglass, Erika Rumbley, Mark Strain, Gina Sarti, Kennedy Holmes, Caroline Goldsmith, Ashley and Anjelica Freeman would call me up, send me letters and be around.

tonight, brandon and marty and i founded the post-apocalyptic film club. we watched road warrior and talked about smoking pot and doing drugs and battle royale. then we looked up other killer klassics to watch in the future. it is our favorite film genre, so it's a good thing that we found one another in this cold, cruel world. what lucky duxxx.

i'm going to move in with lauren and judd next month. i'll miss this silly old house, but marty's going to move into my room and i'll still come and hang out here. it'll be nice to be on the west side again. i'm really going to miss living with brandon, because he is a nice friend and roommate and i like sitting around shooting the shit in the evening.

i bought a dead moon best of album today and it rules so hard. so does roky erikson and this one neil young song.


we made caramel corn tonight and it was so amazingly good.

melt one tablespoon butter in pan, add a cup of sugar and a bit of milk. stir over med. heat. add salt and vanilla. pour over popcorn.

i ate a lot and my stomach is probably going to feel bad in the morning.

what the heck fest, and my dreams for the future

while the rest of the world jetted between 77boardrums and pitchfork and ibeza, I made it to what the heck fest on friday night--no one would cover my shift on saturday night, and i am broke, so it was a one night stand for sure, but it was fun and hot and I don't regret a thing. I would have taken more pictures, but I am shy about using digital cameras unless I am drunk, so here's this one:
Of all of the nights to stay, I like to tell myself that I lucked out. Whether or not this is just a self congratulatory analysis of the circumstance, I was able to see some lovely music, and all for $5, incidentally.


Bobby Birdman
I think that he is such a babe, plus he's got such a crooning voice ANNNNDDDDD he is not playing solo any more, so that was cool. and i haven't seen him play since that econ major totally fucked up his set my sophmore year and matt and lincoln were heckling.

Lloyd & Michael
Kate from Dear Nora is in this band, and it was ever better than I expected. I was sitting with a bunch of freshly met and friendly individuals, and the music was so cozy, and there was free tea and coffee, so it all added up pretty well.

Mecca Normal
I always thought I really detested Mecca Normal, but I was lying to myself I guess, because it turns out that I don't. My plan to sit in the park and write letters, drink soda and eat candy was cut short by the jarring absence of chic-o-stix from the 7-11 and more importantly, the fucking rain. I am glad that I did not make a stubborn decision, because instead of sitting outside in the rain sulking, I realized I have a new band to like AND I stayed warm and dry.

Calvin Johnson
Sang a really funny song about a movie theatre.

The Blow
Totally bummed me out. I think I was getting pretty cranky by the time she went on, but everytime I felt like dancing, the feeling left me, and I wanted to reach for my cane and snap at the ankles of all the young whippersnappers flailing all around me. There were a couple of boys who kept holding their hands up like Parenthesis during that song, and it was much more infuriating than it should have been. My expectations were pretty high for the night, since last year I danced so hard that I had to nap in the car afterwards, as I'd worn myself out.

Dennis Driscoll
Makes my heart melt.
------this guy was a sailor who had just shipped into anacortes, who was wondering why there were so many hip kids milling around. we met him as we walked past a book store talking about harry potter, and he said "did you say something about stealing harry potter?" and then lifted up his shirt.
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So, post-Heck Fest, I was dropped off at the pizzeria and began my shift, which totally sucked because of lake fair. I was getting a serious contact high from all the baked teenagers who couldn't make up their minds, and then there were snotty little brats skipping the line to tell me they had to pee and needed the bathroom key. After work, I met up with that guy, who was bummed out, and I managed to convince myself that I probably had a lot of feelings for him, an opinion which I have now amended and hope to never return to, as I think he's a moody jerk and he doesn't like me anyway. well, perhaps not a jerk, but moody and inconsiderate. and he doesn't care for me, just calls me up when he's bummed out.

so yeah, i went from total awesome weekend, straight back into bummed about boys. i think the perfect solution would be to stop thinking about boys, but they are literally everywhere (except women and trans night at the bike shop, and probably ladies night at mccoys), and it seems that I have morphed into a horny twelve year old1.

I AM MOVING ON FRIDAY THANK GOD.


1 This sort of relates to a conversation recently had regarding the heart-melting way that teenage couples hook onto one another like octopus (octopuses? octopi???).