Saturday, October 30, 2004

A Fool's Fodder

I have Christopher Cross on the brain:

"Sailing, takes me away…
To where I've always heard it could be
Just a dream and the wind to carry me
And soon I will be free..." [from the song

Went sailing, once. There’s nothing like flying on water and standing on the bow while the wind threatens to tear the skin off of ya’. Sounds rather violent, but, really, it’s more on the exhilarating side. Like a near-miss on the highway vs. an intimidating rollercoaster. It’s a controlled sort of thrill.

Anyway, guess who went to yesterday's (Friday's) taping of the Late Late Show and got to see a live interview with — Ahem —

Mr. Dominic Monaghan?

Hm? No clue have you?

Well, let me break the suspense:

I sat mere feet…well, several mere feet from the object of my unrequited affection. Yum. Oh, I would expound, here…but I fear sounding more and more like a lovesick puppy. So, I’ll disparage my crush, instead:

He is quite petite, really. Not skinny, but I think I could beat his ass. And, it’s not like I’m She-Hulk or anything.

But, he’s still cute. And the sparkling blue of his eyes conquered the distance of many mere feet.

Ooops. I have entered the lair of puppydom. Must…pull…back.

(But, I swear on this keyboard, his eyes really do sparkle!!! Qu’est-ce que ca!?)

Thursday, October 28, 2004

Where Failures Lie

Where Failures Lie
Valley and Mountain
neighboring plains whose hearths
stall choice and flaunt hope

Where Failures Lie (Extended)
~to come~

Looking Forward

Looking Forward
starless night
cacooned in a tin box
all seems right
for the caterpillar
the lone
and the separated
sprouting wing buds
in slow mo’
like it’s a no-go
growth goes unnoticed
but leaves stress marks
and, tomorrow,
she will flutter
and show off her colors
in the glorious light of day

Looking Forward (Distilled)
night wrapped in thin shell
colors form on darkened wings
she flies in daylight

Rhyming For Life

If I can, I'll try to implement categories. Poetry will be one of them. Not sure what the others would be, yet. Maybe music?

Rhyming for Life
The sweetest honey
comes straight from the bee-
good to those
who are good to thee-
past is the lesson,
the present the test-
your wings when you
know what’s in the nest-
eggs are key but
also invest in fun-
can be many
or it can be one (won-)
-drous discov’ries
when shared may seem wee-
know that they are the
the sweetest honey

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

I Cried Like a Little Girlie-Man-Girl


I've become a veritable geyser. A salty geyser. Which goes well with my other status as a temporary ho.

Here's what's caused my latest eruption:

John Mayer's "Daughters"

I know a girl
She puts the color inside of my world
But she's just like a maze
Where all of the walls all continually change
And I've done all I can
To stand on her steps with my heart in my hands
Now I'm starting to see
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me

Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too

Oh, you see that skin?
It's the same she's been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now she's left
Cleaning up the mess he made

So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too

Boys, you can break
You'll find out how much they can take
Boys will be strong
And boys soldier on
But boys would be gone without the warmth from
A woman's good, good heart

On behalf of every man
Looking out for every girl
You are the god and the weight of her world

So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too

I never read lyrics when someone pastes them on a page. If you're the same, here's the gist: Daughters are as Fathers do.

I was talking with my mom and she informed me of a study that recently came out. It proclaimed that fathers are as important in a child's life as mothers.

Who the hell thought otherwise? Who the hell said that the role model of a man is not as influential in how the child interacts with the world in their present and future?

How sad that this is a revelation.

Monday, October 25, 2004

It's official..I'm a nut.

There’s a stigma against talking with oneself out loud. And, people seem so embarrassed when caught doing so.

Personally, I don’t care. Even better, I love learning that someone is only human, like the rest of us. (Except for the UFO’s posing as humans…of course)

That said, I stated once to someone it’s okay to hold discussions with yourself. You do it in your head. So what if it slips from your lips, too?

The true sign of insanity is when you begin to argue with yourself:

“Should I go to the store?”

“No. You don’t need anything.”

“But, I’m hungry.”

“You’ve got plenty in the fridge to make something out of. Just cook!”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Get your lazy ass up and cook, for God’s sake!”

Myself and I had that little run-in yesterday. One of many over the past year or so.

I've resorted to giving myself the silent treatment and avoiding me as much as possible. I think it's for the best; I’m still a bit miffed at my tone. I think I could have gotten my point across just as clearly and with less impatience.

I just don’t understand me. I don’t think I ever will.

But, I’m hoping myself and I can work things out.

Friday, October 22, 2004

The Bandwagon's Not So Bad

I heard William Shatner's version of "Common People." Fans of the group Pulp might already be acquainted with this not so itty bitty ditty. (I am admittedly ignorant of this band’s other musical accomplishments…but at least, now, I’m interested.)

Anyway, Will’s duet with Joe Jackson (whom I have recently come to adore!) is spectacular. I’m sure that this rendition of a pop song will become part of the menu for the coolest of outsiders. It will be adopted as a song that only the really unique and true aficionados of music can appreciate.

So, I’m bucking my own trend, by going with everyone elses. That still makes me a rebel, right? Sort of?

Not that I care what anyone thinks. Since I’m bad-ass, and all.

Truthfully, much of my enjoyment of the song comes from Will Shatner’s performance. I love him. He's my hero. And it has nothing to do with Star Trek. I love the fact that he always looks like he sees the potential punchline to some eternal joke; Like he’s just ready for a giggle.And his chuckling persona has got him giggling all the way to the bank. He’s snatched away the jobs of all his impersonators by taking on the task of impersonating himself in movies, commercials, music, whatever. And that’s led him to star in the new, (and very well received) television series “Boston Law.”

He takes chances. He follows his dreams. He risks the big belly flop.

Who can’t love that?!

Will, ya rock. Let’s do lunch.

As for your partner in crime, J.J., bring him along!

Jay Leno's Tonight Show showcased our favorite captain as he performed with the astonishingly intriguing Joe Jackson.

Known for hits like "Steppin' Out," (Quel Surprise!! I love that song [and am happy to be reminded of it.]) "Is She Really Goin' Out With Him" and "I'm the Man". Mr. Jackson is recognized as one of the faces of the pop punk sound that emerged in the eighties (a la Billy Idol? Would either of them be insulted by the comparison, I wonder?).

Now, an older gentleman; Pale skin; Large pink lips; Little hair; Slight frame; His dress is elegant/sharp. In between his turns singing he head bangs to the music or just moves with youthful enthusiasm. He is not an attractive person. But, is a wonderfully odd mix of outward characteristics.

I daresay that amongst a bevy of beautiful people, J.J. would steal the show. Well...after you got tired of the pretty faces, that is.

I wonder what he’s like in person;
I bet he's got stories to tell.

And what'd'ya know? He does.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

Soul Good.

It does rain in Southern California. And, during the work week, at that. It’s a gray day, I’m feeling kinda blah.

I wish my mom were here. I need a hug. I need to know that someone cares that I’m sick and confused and frustrated and hopeful and just one of those crazy mixed-up kids playing “adult”. And, that I don’t feel like participating in that game today.

Course, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like playing. Who volunteered me? God, why do we have to grow up?

Why not? is the resulting answer.

Because independence sucks, sometimes. That’s why not.

Anyway, Let us move on.

Listening to love songs/slow mo’ music. I’m sure that’s not helping. But, maybe it does help to play music that reflects what’s in your soul.

Genuine’s “So Anxious,” filling my eardrums, right now.

Preceded by The Isley Bro.’ “Livin’ for the Love of You.”

I’m looking good: “When you feel your worst, look your best.”

Blue pinstriped slacks, pink sleeveless (yes, it is raining, but it’s California, people. I’m allowed to wear white after Labor day…I can get a ticket for jaywalking..anything goes in this wonderfully wacko wonderland.) My ensemble is accented with a black and pink choker of my own creation and some large dangly earrings that aren’t my norm, but sure do add the necessary edge to my look.

Surely, In Style magazine will be calling me at some point during the day. I may allow them the coveted interview regarding my fashion divaness.

I may not. Depends on how I feel. Oh, wait. That’s right. I feel sucky. So, I probably won’t.

“Won’t you come closer…mmm…to me baby?…You’ve already got me right where you want me baby…How Does it Feel?”—D’Angelo asks me so sweetly.

Just right, D-baby. Just fine and dandy. Just keep on serenading me, sweets.

Thursday, October 14, 2004

Temp Betta Have my Money!

Despite my good upbringing, I think I've been tricked into tricking.

I'm a ho. Apparently.

At least that how you're treated, working under a temp agency. You become the office bitch. Sure, you might enter under the guise of one or two set duties. Under the eye of one supervisor. But, soon, every other person and peon learns that you’re a gun for hire.

And, that’s when the shit comes rolling down.

Imagine your temp representative with a fly, fur trimmed coat atop a burgundy, shiny silk two-piece. Fish swimming in their shoes and a feather adorning their wide-brimmed hat.

So don’t let the heels or air of respectability fool you, ladies and gents; There’s a bitch-slap waiting behind their pearly-white smiles. You best learn how to duck and weave.

Duck and weave.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

When Shakespeare Fasts

To eat or not to eat, that is the question. Whether tis nobler in the stomach to suffer the slings and arrows of hunger pangs. Or to eat. And, in so doing end the thousand aches that an empty stomach is heir to.

To eat. My sandwich.

'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.

They say that if you yearn for food, then you should distract yourself with some activity for the next ten minutes. If you're still thinking of your stomach after that then you are truly famished.

But, "They" say a lot of things. Like potatoes are good for you. Potatoes are bad. The chemicals on food are good for them, but they are bad for you. Water is necessary, but not too much!

All the while the people that smoke cigars till they're 101 laugh/hack in their faces and reminisce on the happy life they've led.

I'm going to get that damn sandwich.

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

For everything...zine, zine, zine.

Lining the shelves of the library are every magazine for every kind of person out there. One for cats and chess, one for kids and kites. One for liberals, republicans and democrats...alike! (No rhyme intended.)

What's my zine, eh? Where do I fall? The last one I bought was a Premiere that featured interviews with, ahem, the Hobbits. (By the way, LOTR is cool, so don't hate.)

Where was I?

Oh, yes.

Visions of bed frames are dancing in my head; I walk right by Miss Cosmo, Miss Elle and their clique. Not because I don't like them, but because the shiny pictures of well designed bathrooms and bedrooms snatch my attention away.

Between the glossy pages of decorating/design magazines is a color-filled, textureful, gracefully lined heaven awaiting to run wet with my drool. It's true! I nearly drool at a good design, or rich, vibrant, living color. Or, supple textures that invite the hand to caress it.

If I were to be honest, I'd admit that such beauty warms me and heats me and heightens a wonderful sensitivity within in and throughout. For me, a thorough collage of color, texture and design would be as unto a Barry White song. But, I won't be that honest.

And, now, I can better understand the place that that chess magazine holds in the world and I won't scorn them in my mind any longer; there's someone out there whose mouth waters at the prospect of 'pawn takes queen'. Their eyes glaze over at the conclusion of a well-played, equally matched, intense round. The board seems to yield a pull stronger than gravity. To conquer it is to experience nirvana.

Or, so I imagine.

Monday, October 11, 2004

After the rain...

So I'm back. Hope you enjoyed that one rainy day.

As for me...hmmm, I got a lot done. I have glasses to wear now, but I forgot them at home (Doh!) Anyway, what words may I grace this page with today? What wisdom will sprout from my fertile psyche?

Pause. Pause. Pause.

Nope, I got nuddin'.

See you tomorrow, or the next or next to next.

Saturday, October 09, 2004

Out to Lunch

update. 2-5 are done, done, done and done.

Today was supposed to be a "list-less" day. I'd planned to stay in bed all day reading Jane Eyre, after having been inspired to do so by its movie version.

Instead, I went out and got my eye exam (for glasses that may be able to pick up as soon as tomorrow!), I returned merchandise, sent email, picked up a book from the library, Satanic Nurses and other literary parodies, and after this post I'll be on my way for my very first Trader Joe's excursion (a healthy foods store that stocks well flavored merchandise at unbelievably reasonable prices!!! Otherwise, this butter-eating, sugar-intaking, budget-watching, calorie-loving adorer of taste would not even waste her time. Okay?)

Wish me luck!

Oh, and let me leave you with the lyrics of a song I've recently learned of. I've not heard it with the background music, but I'd like to. If you have it, feel free to share!

Reap the Wild Wind - Ultravox

Reap the wild wind. (Repeat 3 times)

A finger points to show a scene. (Take my hand. Take my hand.)
Another face where mine had been. (Take my hand. Take my hand.)
Another footstep where I once walked. (Take my hand)
Take it all.

Chorus:You take my hand and give me your friendship.
I'll take my time and send you my slow reply.
Give me an inch and I'll make the best of it.
Take all you want and leave all the rest to die.

Reap the wild wind.

A footprint haunts an empty floor. (Take my hand. Take my hand.)
A fading coat that I once wore. (Take my hand. Take my hand.)
Oh, desolation where I once lived.I have seen in times gone by.
I have felt a different shadow on the wall,A stranglehold on a certain feeling.


Reap the wild wind. (Repeat 2 times)


Reap the wild wind.

Friday, October 08, 2004

In Deep Doogie.

I just recalled something: Neil Patrick Harris as the Emcee in "Cabaret", the musical.

I wanted to record this memory while it still left the trace of a smirk on my face.

It was a Friday, I think. I went to New York for the weekend. I stayed in a hostel. I lost all my clothing in the taxi that brought me there. It rained as I walked to the theatre to present my SRO ticket.

I sat in the back. The very back of the massive, fully occupied room. The space was made up of reds and glittering glasses and it was so warm, the colors, the excitement of my first Broadway play.

My teeth chattered the whole time. I hadn't thought to buy an umbrella. But, I don't remember any chill. Except for at the thought at how amazing it was to be in the big apple, watching a classic musical, with the remarkably talented Doogie Howser as the provocative lead. He was so good. He can sing! And, he was able to pull off raunchy pretty well, too. Kind of attractive.

When I happened upon a pic of him in my local paper, wearing suspenders over his pale torso and red painted nipples...Can you possibly understand that I had to see that performance...?

And, that the wet clothes, and the lost clothes and the broken glasses and un-wonderful accomodations somehow made the trip that much better? How is that?

How is that?

Maybe it's the good bacteria of life. Or maybe it's more like the salt in icecream: Yeah...I can dig that: A kind of perfect imperfection that enhances the experience.

Thank God for it, and for coincidence and curious impulses.

Though, my next trip will involve a hotel room; And, maybe an umbrella.

Today's Top Ten


(1) AAA
Goals: renew membership that expires tomorrow.
(2) Budget
Goals: Establish a reasonable financial plan that will make me successful in obtaining my goals.
(3) Glasses
Goals: to see.
(4) Call G-mother (before 10pm, her time)
(5) Call Nicci (before 10pm, her time)
(6) Ralphs/Groceries?

Number 1 is kilt! You hear me? I obliterated that task at approximately one-oh-something o’ clock today at the AAA office.

~Exhales deeply~

There, that’s better.

I’ll start working on two after this post. My glasses. I don’t like the local optometrist I’ve found here. Okay, so I’m a bit of a snob when it comes to eyeware, but I like a little service with a personal touch, okay?! Who ever thought the clinical, cold and unidentifiable look was "in" was very wrong. But, the fact is that I cannot afford to wait until I go home so that I can go to my beloved EyeCare Optical. Anyway, the operator couldn’t find their number when I searched for them last week. They may have gone out of business.

It seems that the personal touch may not be profitable.

Go Walmart.

As far as my personal calls: I haven’t been keeping up with--as the kids say-- “my peeps, yo.”

So, Grammy, I’ll call and say “howdy” to.

A couple of weeks ago Nicci, whom I speak with every five or six months, called and left me a happy birthday message. Procrastination has held my phone hand at bay. But, I should return that call. I’ll do what I usually end up doing and leave a stream of consciousness message that I end up embarrassed about well before I hang up.

Go Walmart.

Why does that make me laugh?

But Seriously, Folks

"You look tired." That's what my friend told me last night as I lay on my stomach, enveloped by her giant blue (suede!) beanbag.

We've begun an unofficially official weekly ritual: Once a week I drive down into LA to watch her recording of that week’s episode of “Lost.”

So, I’m there last night while we watch “Will and Grace,” and wait for our Chinese food to arrive. There are papers spread out before me as I’m trying my best to complete task numero 1 from yesterday’s list.

“You seem kind of out of it.”

This statement made from a person that’s known me, really, all of a couple months. Guess I’m an easy read.

I didn't tell my friend--henceforth to be referred to as "G-ters"-- that my roommate--who, henceforth, will not be referred to-- and I had a fight a couple of days ago. And, that she said things that’s caused me not to trust the very essence of who she is. I don’t like her. I haven’t for a long time. For this reason I felt a guilty sense of relief after (and maybe during) the argument; the combination of her foul words and of previous instances of her nearly-as-foul attitude towards me and others has given me sound reason to unabashedly ignore her.

Of course, that night I decided I seriously needed to move.

That, and other goals have goaded me into serious action-mode. That alter-ego really is so focused that I see and hear and think of little else, except blogs and books, of course.

So, last night, as I drowned in the plushy blue blob that I have vowed to one day steal, I agreed with Gters, I blamed my renewed resolve and apologized for my kind of distant-ness. And, she understood.

I think my focus is the reason for my muted attitude. I don’t want to even consider that I’ve attached any kind of emotion to the previously mentioned harsh exchange of words.

My roommate isn’t worth that much power in my life.

I’d rather reserve my funky moods for those that are.

Yesterday's number 1. Done & Done.

Garrrrrgh!...I guess I'm just checking in...9:47am

I had a wonderful entry to share. But, this piece of shit program just erased it.

Usually I'd say that that means that it just wasn't meant to be. But, I think I left my optimism somewhere around last week.

I'll be back.

Thursday, October 07, 2004

This is Honeycomb

Chinese astrology--which I looked up today and will probably quote for the rest of my life (can we say "addictive personality?")-- says that Horses have a bit of an inferiority complex. Well, of course I wouldn't know. But, you know, if I did know I might be inclined to agree.

There was so much I'd planned to say on this post. Like,

I hate SUV's and the midget women that drive them.

I don't want to have kids, but a song I heard today might be the closest thing to ever make me truly reconsider. I cried. You should have seen me. One hand swiping the tears away from my face, the other on the wheel as I switched lanes on the highway. I laughed at myself.

About how some people's faces are just built to look mean, even if they, as people, are not. This old man was crossing the parking lot and he had the evilest, scrunched up look on his face as I drove past him. He probably takes his teeth out to scare his grandkids into a teary fit. Then, he'd laugh and hug them till they stopped crying.

I was gonna write about my Bagua class, because I think it's cool and that it makes me look pretty cool to be learning it. It's a type of martial arts. All twisting and footwork. Really neat. Featured in the movie, "The One". I am a novice, but am taking the offence against my horse-like tendencies and have committed to stick it out.

But, I think I'll just say that it's okay if I'm not always the nicest person, and if I give in to being a little...uhm...well...vindictive. I can't be an angel all the time; The wings itch. And, sometimes my head gets to big for the halo.

But, you know, that's all okay. Because, I enjoy singing. When I sing--when I'm digging a song and just letting my voice soar with it I just know that I'm making withdrawls from a natural well of good stuff. Like what I've got is gonna be heaven for somebody to swim in and to lose themselves in. And, that that somebody would provide the same sanctuary for me.

And, that applies for all types of relationships, including the romantic side. Though, I don't feel like analyzing the romantical (I know that that is not a word) side of it. I'll save that for another post. You can blame Dom for the diversion, though.

Numbers 3 & 4. Done and Done.

Making up for future lost time

So, let's be frank (cause I hate being Judy)...I'm not gonna keep this rhythm of writing up. Did you know that I'm a horse? According to Chinese astrology it is in my nature to frolic/gallop from one pasture to the next.

So, what I'm doing now, by posting a million and three posts in a matter of hours, is saving up for the rainy days.

Okay, I'll be Judy.

So, anyway, here's my plan for today:

(1) Study schedule of classes
goals: to narrow down my choices to fourteen courses.
results: will help me determine if I can feasibly learn what I want to learn within a year's time of independent study.

(2) Buy stamps
goals: to mail my card to my friend, BK.

(3) Go to Kinko's
goals: make color copies of the design concept I'd created for my landlord's additional bathroom (that is currently in the middle of construction.)

(4) Go to Library
goals: update Diary/Blog

I can already tell you that I've invested in 20 stamps and mailed my letter. Number 2 is done and done.

The courses thing is well on it's way. I'll finish by tonight. I have to go to Kinko's after work, in the middle of rush hour traffic (blah) but it has to be done.

I mentioned earlier that I've been lazy for quite some time. I haven't been buckling down, so to speak. Mostly because I haven't been confident in the goals I've set for myself.

I'm at the point now where I've just gotta trust my gut. And, go for it. Treat my vision as if it is the right path for me. And, that means I have to get back into the groove of responsibility (aka brokeness) as I save up funds to take care of the other issues that are hindering credit...

But, I will not get into that right now. I will end with this warning: Beware credit card solicitors that slink onto college campuses with promises of bright, shiny things and free t-shirts.

checking in...11:39am

Hooray! I've done three hours of work, and I'm already caught up, pretty much. I think they should let people that get their work done quickly just play on the computer for the rest of the day. Or, even take a nap, or something.

I really hate sneaking. I tend to get caught.

Anywho, hmm...I haven't visited my Dom Monaghan site, yet. I'm beginning to believe I just go there for the forums, now. Maybe my crush is waning...I don't know.

Watched "Lost" the other night. Started liking the blonde-headed bad boy. The one who will obviously turn out to be the heart-broken sensitive man who puts up a good front. That one.

(Shrug) Well, that's about it for my love life. I'm out.

checking in...8:01am

I'm just checking in. It's 8:01 and I'm at work. I work a temporary job for Kaiser Permanente...the hospitals. Anywho, I have a plan of action for the day. I've come to realize over the past weeks that my laziness is really a hindrance. And, if I can get off my butt to do the things I want and need to do I just might start making progress in some the direction I want, maybe even.

I'm going to get off now.

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

I'm Sorry, I Didn't Hear You...I Was Talking to Myself

So, I was coming up the stairs to enter the library and I saw this lady kneeling in front of a child. The little boy was seated at the edge of the steps while the lady (his mother, I presume) patiently explained why he couldn't just rush up on strangers.

I walked by and looked and saw that he was looking at me.

Cute kid. But, then I realized that he didn't give a shit what she was saying. He was already distracted by a dread-locked headed stranger passing behind his mom.

I could probably offer him candy right now.

Or, maybe not. Maybe her important message got through to him. Maybe he's not a kid with the attention span of...well, a kid.

It's just funny to me how egotistical we all are. I know that sounds harsh after just talking of a child. But, I mean, I feel like when we're kids we're probably more purely who and what we are than when we've grown up and "found" ourselves. (Something I've yet to accomplish; I seem to be very good at hiding...)

Anyway, egotistical. What I mean is, it doesn't seem important to us until it involves us, or until it is our issue. And, then we cannot even fathom others not grasping the importance of said issue.

I'll admit, that's me. That was me when I was eight and my turn was skipped while we were playing kickball. (My fourth grade classmates still suck for that! They will pay...oh, yes.)

And, that's me now, when I'm at the office and am being piled up with work...interfering with my play time on the company's internet access. Don't they know that there's a message board that needs my rapt attention!?!

No, they do not. Because that would be bad. And, I would be fired. Then poor. Then homeless.

Or, actually, I'd be homebound, back to KCMO. My mom would love that.

She loves me dearly, you know. She tells me not to talk to strangers.

Honest to God...okay, I lied. She doesn't. But, she does fear for me (her only munchkin a.k.a. child) because I do talk to strangers. But, what else can I do? I'm alone in this big ol' bad state.
My grandmothers not in the woods, she's in Missouri. And, I left my red, hooded cape in the mid-west. So, all that leaves is the wolf.

And, unfortunately, I have no claws (tools which are pretty much a necessity out here).

Thank God this doesn't have to make sense.

Love at first Line...

So, I love Dominic Monaghan. Yes, that’s how I’m starting out my diary. And, No, Of course I don’t actually LOVE the man. I don’t know why I’m even using that word. It seems like ever since I’ve moved out to California I’ve learned to throw that word around like a club goer would an influential name. I know it has to do with my few months working as a Production Assistant on independent films.

There's a weird atmosphere in that know? For a short time, you're closer to those people than to friends you've known for far longer. And, everybody says they love you. And, you say it back. And, yo don't mean it. But, it all seems alright, anyway.


Anywho, that’s it, I think, for today, students.

You are dismissed.