i came too soon, so i came back
12 September 2002 at 12:41 am

i'm going to try to write this right now but i don't think it will go so well considering my slightly-less-than-legal state of mind.

I moved in on Thursday, August 29, which i guess was only 2 weeks ago but i kept thinking it was 3 and a half. weird. anyway, i spent that night smoking a joint in my new apartment by myself and crashed on the floor around 11. that night i ended up sleeping with random boy x...oh, y'know? saturday, michelle and joanna moved all their shit in and we celebrated on saturday by getting rather tipsy. sunday was futher organizing and funness. monday through friday were more fucking classes downtown, each followed by random drunken/highness. michelle's friend adam came up to visit from vancouver and between the 4 of us, but mostly between michelle and adam, we smoked a nice little 8th. which isn't really that impressive until you consider that fact that joanna and i only smoked with them twice. yikes.

anyway, so yeah. last weekend was nothing special ... rather, nothing i can remember. oh, wait, wedged somewhere in that timeframe came bumbershoot, which was fucking amazing. we saw the helio sequence, who were amazing, modest mouse, at which some very nice guy put me on his shoulders so i could see better until people started yelling at me, and sonic youth, at which i was in the mosh pit (as moshy a pit as can be at a sonic youth concert anyway) and people were dropped on my head as i was shoved this way and that and it was so, so, so much fun.

paragraph break!

ummm...yeah. i've been back for the past few days and i have one more class tomorrow, which sucks because i have to get up at 7:30a and it is 1:11a and no good can come of this.

up and coming? the motherfucking donnas are coming to seattle...twice...in the same month! !! ! AND reel big fish is rocking the showcase. and there are tens of other shows i want to go but, unfortunately, the monetary situation is dire and not changing anytime soon. budgeting is not fun. but being able to come home, light up a joint, throw back a few cranberry/raspberry twist/grenadine/tonic mixers, and not have to answer to anyone is worth the trouble.

life is great. i'd blame the drugs and alcohol if i were looking for a scapegoat for the happiness that snuck up on me. don't give up on me, angst-ridden loves! i'll pull through this fit of normalcy soon enough and return to the depths of depression in no time.

go to bed, me.

[ok]

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.