Dear Querciten and Nettles,
I love you. I really do. You're there for me when I need you, but I don't have to take you everday. You're potent enough for even the worst of it, and you're lacking in those side effects your chemically enhanced cousins provide so carelessly. Why, o Querciten, why must you torture me so? After over a year of toting around my first batch of you, why must you fail me when I need you most? How could you run out on me like that? How am I supposed to find you now? Come back to me, Querciten. I miss you.
Yours,
Morgan's nasal passages, and other allergen reactors
My brother called me last night at 11:30pm to tell me he was about to go play a show and, uh, he was calling me to, uh, tell me. We're so alike, it's ridiculous...when we're nervous or in a place we're not sure we belong, we'll smoke a cigarette and call someone to prove that somebody out there would rather us be with them then where we are. He told me about his weekend in Vegas and I told him about nothing at all, because our relationship is such that he talks to me and I talk at him. It's ok; I'm good for these sorts of things. I've discovered that people are bored by my problems, and actually, I am too, so why spread them around? I like to make sense of other people's lives for them; it makes mine easier to ignore.
He called me again at 1:30am, long after I had passed out sprawled over the bed, tissue in hand, dog at feet, TV on ATHF, and I awoke to Aaron trying to turn the phone off so I wouldn't wake up. I grabbed it from him and, in the process, pressed every button possible, answering the phone, putting him on hold, starting a text message, and a few other things it took my fuzzy mind a full minute to figure out. When I finally got back to the phone call, Matt was talking to himself, apparently trying to leave a message though there was no beep, and then started to tell me how the show went when he realized I was actually there, and I had to yell, "UMPF," because that's the only sound that comes out of my mouth when I'm woken up in such a state. Note to self: call him back.
I'm so deliriously boring. My life has become a steady rhythm of work, homework, housework, and sleep, and that leaves little time to think of interesting things to say here. I've been doing this for three and a half years. What could there possibly be left to overanalyze?
I saw Harry Potter on Saturday. It was the first time Aaron and I had been to the movies since last summer, when we saw Holes and Finding Nemo at the drive-in in Washington. The movie was well-made, the story was kind of amateurish, but that could be because they had to leave things out. Or something, I don't know, I don't read the books. Maybe it was the fact that whenever there was a close-up of Harry, the two girls next to me shrieked, giggled, and whispered as loudly as their diaphragm would allow: "He's so CUTE!"
The ticketcounter girl gave us the student rates, though, which was nice. I don't know why she assumed both Aaron and I were students, since Aaron looks like he's 40 and I'm at the age where I may or may not be in school. She asked if we had our student IDs, and I said no, but she could take our word for it, hahaha, and she did! Way to avoid potential confrontation, ticket counter girl. We salute you.
Have I mentioned I'm going to Santa Barbara 4th of July weekend? I'm sure I have, but I'm so ridiculously excited I can't stand it. I've gotten ahold of all three people I want to see, and the others -- well, I didn't like them anyway. Suzzi, why did you change your number? All we're going to do is lay on the sand with the dog and I'll smoke copious amounts of whatev while Aaron wallows in the glory that is Idyllic Beach Town.
Oh! And I've been watching bits and pieces of the MTV Movie Awards, and My GOD, is that a cringe-worthy show. There was nothing remotely amusing about any of their bits, the whole thing was just so typical. During the pre-show, Asian Correspondent Somethingorother was all like, "Welcome to the MTV Movie Awards Pre-show! And not a tuxedo in site!" Do they put that on the invitations? "You can come to the MTV Movie Awards, but in order to uphold out image of being DIFFERENT and OUT THERE and ANTI-ESTABLISHMENT, no penguin suits. Versace suits, however, are a-ok." Oh, MTV, you used to be cool, but that era passed more than a decade ago. If you're going to be what you're going to be -- a corporate whore dedicated to providing what's cool, i.e., advertisers -- don't even to pretend you're the same MTV that brought us music sans bullshit.
It hardly warrants comment, but oh well.
one year ago today: "seattle at it's best, i'm sure." three years ago today: "i have an itch on my forehead but i can't seem to find it."