Monday, February 27, 2006

in the land of one million drums, there is always something going on, on uh uh uh on on

So, I've lost my voice for like the fifteenth time in two years, and I apparently have a serious allergic reaction to dogs. Which sucks, because if you know me, you know I love dogs. I was planning on getting one eventually, but now to play with him I'll have to don an hypoallergenic mask and surgeon's gloves. He shall grow into a full grown cur without ever truly knowing his master's touch.

I feel like scratching records today actually. Ever hear that song Rainy Night in Georgia? Where the singers like, hovering by suitcase/hoping to find a warm place/to spend the night? I swear, that is the most depressing song I've ever heard. Every time I even think about that song, I get this lonely depressed feeling deep in my chest, and I can feel the tears getting ready to come down. Its almost like it catches the essence of every human being's awkward loneliness. You know that feeling where you don't really belong, and you're not sure if you need to move on, or if you need to try to stay to belong. That's the feeling I think every human feels. Its almost as if, to us, everyone is placed and at home and life is exactly as it should be, and to you, inside, you wonder what you really should be doing. I don't know how those who really have it all together feel, because well I don't and therefore can't relate, but for those people, you have to wonder if they feel that same sorta floating helplessness. Maybe not even helplessness, but this feeling of not really being attached to anything, or anyone. You know what I mean?

And we got to pet the goats, and feed the chickens, and we got to drink milk straight from the cow

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

I'm on the phone right now trying to make reservations with the Marriott. They keep telling me to remain on the line. At this point, I'd be crazy to hang up.

Wow. Its definitely been a while. I'm sure all of you (all of three of you) have missed my charming wit, and my salacious guile. Oh wait.

So this girl comes to my door, wakes me up and then begins talking very fast to me. I think she was hoping to confuse me with speed and guile. Little did she know my brain is always fast and active. Actually, she was trying to sell me a book or a magazine so that she could go to college. Anytime I see someone selling magazines from door to door, I always wonder, why aren't you at home studying to get a scholarship? Good grades generally get you into a college with a scholarship. Will it be the one you want? Probably not. But selling books and/or magazines to get a $15,000 scholarship probably won't work either. I already am a proud subscriber to eight magazines and a not so proud subscriber to probably three more. That's a lot of paper. Not only is a lot of paper, its a lot of reading. And more importantly, I get all but two of those for free. That's right. Free. I don't pay for magazines. That would be a)stupid and b) an indication that I want to start paying for magazines. Erroneous on both counts. So now here I am dogging the girl out for being somewhat industrious. She also smelled like the stairway at the public library. You know where all the homeless people hang out and sleep?

I made my reservations. Yeah, that's how long it took me to post.